Reborn Knight
by BullardCR
Summary: What separates a shinobi from a mercenary? What is needed in a time of war: morality or efficiency? As Wind Country shatters under a barrage of violent revolution, a genin returns broken, and perhaps, with the answer.
1. The End of an Age

aI do not own the rights to "Naruto", nor any of the persons, places, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to the series, as well as a critique on it's existing plotline. Therefore, if requested by the owners and distributors of the "Naruto" anime or manga, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Chapter I:**

Hinata frowned, her timid eyes, rather than glancing down at her feet, stared out into the distance of the forest. She stood atop the academy building, trying to get the best view of the Fire Country's deep valley. Somehwere, she considered, there was the boy she could not get out of her head. He would be gone for three years, according to the rumors spread by Sakura. She triggered her Byakugan, squinting as she peered over every detail of the main trail leading to the west of the village perimeter. There were minor footprints, clearly belonging to Jiraiya, and the stride of the prints beside those could easily have belonged to Uzumaki. She paled, wondering if this was the last she would see of the boy for three years, and if her actions came off the wrong way.

Those thoughts were quickly wiped clean from her mind as she returned to the footprints, and stared out to the maximum range of her eyes, before the details became too fuzzy. She had noticed this problem earlier during the Chuunin Exams, but didn't choose to mention anything to her father. Small things were losing clarity at distance, and while it was an insignificantly small change at first, the problem had grown with her continuous training. Each time she activated her bloodline limit, the clarity of her vision seemed worse than before.

While she managed to sneak an eye exam chart into her room without the knowledge of either main or branch families, Hinata shuddered at the possibility her father, Hanabi, or even Neji knew of her worsening condition. She could manage to make out the third or fourth smallest lines of characters at the designated six meter distance, but beyond that was a hopeless smear of ink. Neither black or white, those lines appeared to be a gray haze of watercolors on the rough parchment.

She would talk to Kurenai-sensei about it later, Hyuuga decided. She could not allow the safety of her teammates or the success of the mission to be compromised for her own cowardice. The girl's head snapped upward in defiance. It wasn't her fault, after all. She was training just as Neji was, trying to make up for so much lost ground during the early years of her time in the academy. But it was another blow to the family honor. She, the firstborn of the main household, the heiress to the greatest surviving bloodline in the village, was not only a failure in combatives, but a failure in genetics. Myopia, if it became serious enough, could even cripple her chance at extending to the chuunin rank.

But he would understand, Hinata thought, letting a slight blush cross her cheeks. He would never judge her for her physical condition, but rather what he knew she was capable of. As the memories of the battle against Neji, often a recurring nightmare, plagued her mind, she thought back to the one warm feeling that settled the hairs on the back of her neck. It was that blonde genin, the loudmouth in the orange jumpsuit shouting to her, telling her not to give in. Hinata folded her arms, and leaned out over the safety rail of the academy roof, trying to clear the blurry image of the trail, wondering where her savior was this very moment.

Not five kilometers out of the village on their three year training regimen, and things had gone horribly wrong. The Jinchuuriki limped along the desert trail to the Hidden Sand Village, gripping his crippled right arm. Sweat coated his forehead protector, hidden underneath the scavenged tattered cloak, the one that came from the man Jiraiya defeated first. But that led back to thoughts of the fallen Saanin, and how disgracefully the man's body was butchered before him. It sickened him further how he could do nothing but run, ordered by his dying, impaled sensei to retreat.

The enemies had used cowards' weapons, mostly crossbows armed with explosive tags. They were missing nin, apparently adept at genjutsu to surpass the Saanin's detection abilities. This infuriated the boy even more, realizing how far he was from reaching the level of a competent shinobi. His skills, even with the training Jiraiya would have taught him, relied too heavily on his stamina. For the first time in his life, Naruto stopped considering rushing in as the best tactic.

He heard footsteps coming from behind, and quickened his pace. The men were a good two hundred meters away, but still following him, the shifting sand echoing in the canyon walls of the desert. He tried to work up to a jog, but his legs grew stiff, body collapsing to the ground. The air felt thick, the heat of the late afternoon cooking it, scorching his throat. As the boy rolled onto his bad arm, aggravating the deep gash with sand, he started to whimper. Today, the boy thought, he was going to die.

•••••••••••••

It was a horrible dream, Hinata thought as she flung herself to an upright position, sitting on her bed in the Hyuuga compound. Her face and body soaked in sweat, the cold night air did nothing to cool her as she staggered to her feet. The nightmare had taken much out of her, Hanabi complaining later that morning how her sister tossed and turned, making unusual muffled cries.

The eldest of the Hyuuga main branch wiped her forehead, and rolled onto her side. "Naruto..." she whimpered, letting out a soft cry. Why did she have to fail? She had let her secret drag on for far too long, and now, it would be another three years, if ever, before she could tell him what she felt. The girl clenched her fists, and pulling her pillow down over her head, muffled her raspy sobs.

•••••••••••••

Naruto's head swung backwards, then rolled slowly forward to his chest. The sudden jolt startled him awake, finding his body dragged by his arms through the sand. The wounded shoulder screamed, the gritty soil mashed into the vertical gash. Uzumaki let out a muffled grunt, coughing up small bits of sand, before a blow to the head forced him once again to unconsciousness.

Just before his eyes closed, he looked into the flat expanse of desert, the morning sun already baking the ground beneath him. He thought he saw a female silhouette with penetrating silver eyes stare at him from the distance. There was something so familiar about her, but he could not recognize what importance the girl had, and why he suddenly felt at ease.

•••••••••••••

It had been six months, Tsunade thought, and no word had come from Jiraiya. It was possible he had chosen to operate in secret, but highly unlikely. He would have sent word somehow to let her know he and Naruto were still alive and safe. No, the Hokage thought, something was horribly wrong. It was that very morning, gathering the ANBU, she ordered two squads to search for her fellow Saanin. "It is imperative," she spoke firmly, "we find Uzumaki Naruto at once."

The ANBU looked at each other through their masks, confused. They did not believe one genin constituted such a high profile mission. "Hokage-sama," one began, "I don't understand the importance of the genin."

The blonde woman glared, but stopped to think of the situation. No one besides those directly involved with the boy knew of the mission, or the disturbing reconnaissance gathered within the last year. "He is of the highest priority," she answered. "It is believed a group of missing nin intent on destroying the village will try to capture any of our shinobi beyond the gates, and use them to infiltrate, if not sabotage our border patrols."

It was a lie, of course, but it would serve to protect the sensitivity of the mission. At least if captured, the ANBU would not be able to reveal the nature of Naruto's importance. It had been ensured through medical techniques as well as memory manipulation that all ANBU were deprived of specialized knowledge deemed a risk to their village's security. The truth could get them, Naruto, and the entire village killed, but a lie would at least keep the village safe. "Begin searching the trails to the North," she ordered. "Jiraiya was last reported heading in the direction of Wind Country."

But those squads had returned not hours later, with the corpse of a badly decayed Jiraiya draped in a body bag.

•••••••••••••

The Jinchuuriki screamed again, the steel-reinforced boot driving into his right shoulder a second time. The wound had not healed, not after the months of torture. Or had it been years? Naruto could not remember anymore. The pain had convinced him to stop thinking about the passage of time. "Well?" the old man's voice barked again. "Are you going to talk today?"

The dark tunnel buried deep underground smelled of mold and rotting flesh. Uzumaki focused on those scents, the only sensations which offered the least offense, as his naked body drooped forward. He could not fall into the soft, moist soil, however, as the shackles linked to his wrists jerked him to a stop. All he wanted was to fall into that earth, and sleep his death away. It would be far more easy to tell them what they wanted to know, but the boy literally knew nothing about the situation. Again, the rough metal of the boot's plating drove into his shoulder, causing another blood-curdling scream.

They had beaten, broken, and burned practically every part of his body besides the right shoulder. That they had chosen to let linger. Disinfectants were held out in front of him, promised only if he would divulge the information they wanted to know. If he refused, the wound was reopened, the freshly flowing blood keeping the wound clean. The point was simply to break down the genin's resistance, after all, not to kill him. But the old man started to have second thoughts, and a prompt disposal to ensure Naruto wouldn't reveal their identity seemed the only option left available. No, the man considered, he would try just one more thing.

The trainee hiding in the corner now stepped forward, holding a small bag of crushed plant spores out to the old man. As the lead interrogator walked up to the boy, he blew a portion of the spores over the genin's face. The scent was a swift change for the decaying earthen structure, causing Naruto to inhale the hallucinogen deeply.

"You will find this quite interesting," the old man spoke softly, leaning forward. Uzumaki snarled, then paused, his head starting to throb. Quickly, a fever built up, his body roasting itself from the inside out. "Most hallucinogens of this plant family are excellent tranquilizers, but this one is the one exception to that rule." He gave the boy a moment to absorb what he said, already noting the slurred grunts and unsteady, rolling nods from his victim. "It causes inflammation of the nervous system, and intensifies the sensations of pain. The hallucinations, I hear, are quite traumatic."

Naruto stared into the darkness, and noticed the pitch black surroundings grow to a light gray, then brilliant white. He tried to blink, but he was no longer seeing what came through his eyes. The side effects of the visual cortex's damage were taking effect, just as his ears started to erode. The high pitched whine turned to a retching screech. Blindness, he was told, was always an existence in the nothingness of a black void. He never imagined a white, screaming mist, on the other hand, could be so terrifying.

"Don't dare try to resist," the old man snarled from the confines of the shadows. "We have reinforced the seals to your demon, Jinchuuriki. We have also sealed your chakra points. Your ninjutsu techniques are useless." The man leaned in closer, whispering, watching as every breath he took caused a stabbing pain to shoot through his victim's ears. "Next comes the mouth, nose, and throat, every breath you take cutting into your lungs like a knife. Your sense of touch will be last, but I promise, after six hours thinking your bones are melting under your skin, you will perceive time in a whole new way."

"You have less than a minute to tell us everything you know," the trainee began, "before the pain becomes too unbearable for you to be any use to us."

"I ...told you, I don't know ANYTHING!" Naruto growled, letting out a few sickly coughs. The stale air and malnutrition was finally getting to him, his nose and mouth burning from the harmless atmosphere. He tried to focus on something else, anything to ignore the senses he could not shut out. Thoughts of what he had left behind plagued his thoughts, things, places, and people he would never see again. Home was now this cramped tunnel. But his mind further detoured along these thoughts, and to one person in particular.

"I'll ask one more time," the man grumbled. "What is your connection with the Konoha ANBU movements to the south?"

"H-Hi..." Uzumaki coughed hoarsely, leaning forward, letting the chains hold his weight. "Hin-" he tried to speak as his vocal chords turned to rough, rusted steel. The muscles in his neck seized, head jerking forward before slumping down into his chest. His time had expired, he realized, as his fingers started to twitch uncontrollably. In an instant, the tendons under his forearms pulled taunt like steel piano wire on the verge of snapping. "Hina-!" he managed to partly squeal as his tendons tore, rolling back like a flapping window shade under his skin. The bundled fibers scratched along his bones, making him lurch forward, his arms jerking on the chains.

"What was that?" the old man leaned in closer, while the larger, stocky interrogator gripped the boy's shoulder, forcing the gash to reopen for the thirty-second time in seven months. The agony, while only a few moments before would have simply been a minor addition to the stiff, sagging joints, was now a spear which punched through one side of his body to the other. His organs seemed to pool down at his knees when the hallucinations began.

The genin could not understand how he did not see it before. Perhaps, in this place of darkness, this isolation from light, and the final blows to his mind, he finally found something he could focus on to bring a shred of the pleasures of Konoha back to him. There were his friends, of course, and she counted as one of them. But, as he considered the situation during the few hours between interrogations, he started noticing the slight hints she had given. It sickened him at this moment, after severe cranial trauma, the shattered fingers, forearms, elbows, and toes which were crushed under the heavy steel mallet how he just now discovered what he had missed over the months of training. As he strained his vision, he thought he could see her emerge from the bright, licking flames of the white fire.

"Hina...ta?" Naruto squeaked, before his head slumped forward, the coma protecting his sanity from shattering.

•••••••••••••

The disqualified Hyuuga heiress sobbed in the quiet of the Konoha night, standing before the small, insignificant marker. There was no body, but he had to have died. There was no possibility a captured shinobi would be spared from an enemy which had murdered one of the Saanin. She took a few steps forward, and kneeled beside the small granite stone. She touched the top of the rough surface, tracing her fingertips over it in the way she had wished to touch the blonde genin.

"If your father finds you," a cold voice boomed from the surrounding night, "he would punish you for disgracing the main family." Hinata refused to make eye contact with her cousin. Neji folded his arms, and glared down at the girl clad in the black kimono. It had been a week since the impromptu, disgraceful funeral. Six months since the boy first left, and only within the last week the announcement was made. While there were many of his own age which mourned the loss appropriately, the majority of villagers wore bright colors, interrupted the ceremony with gossip, and not left so much as one flower behind for the shinobi.

That was why she had chosen to mourn for the ungrateful, approaching the forsaken monument in the middle of night. She had did everything she could to hide her intentions from her father, her sister, and the branch family. However, her interest in the genin were not missed by the true Hyuuga genius. "He has fallen, and there is nothing you can do about it," Neji continued. The girl refused to stand from her kneeled position, and as such, her cousin joined her in the damp grass which coated the hollowed ground.

Hinata was surprised to find her cousin in black formal robes, setting an engraved kunai, a ceremonial piece, next to the monument. "Neji-san?" she squeaked, the tears pausing for a moment. Her cousin simply glared at the grave, a gut-wrenching hate building inside. He could understand how she felt, but she would never understand what he thought of the situation. One of the few who defeated him in combat, one who promised to fight for the rights of the branch family, one who chose to defy destiny was now gone. It was as if fate itself was laughing, mocking the prodigy from the shadows of night. He could not tolerate it.

"It is time to return to the compound," he said calmly. Hinata stood hesitatntly, not wanting to leave. As Neji turned his back to her, he knew she would not leave without some rationale she was not truly leaving the deceased behind. She could not abandon her feelings so easily, and to do so would be equivalent to betrayal: a thought most shinobi were bred to abhor. "Just because others will not understand, it does not mean you cannot speak to him in daylight with joy."

Hinata sighed, and walked beside her cousin, both knowing she would return again tomorrow. It was then he noticed the odd facial tick. For the first month he detected it, Neji guessed it was the girl's latest tell, her body language so easily read compared to her classmates from the academy. Over the next two or three months, however, he had a chance to observe when the tell really occurred: in front of scrolls, street signs, and during her taijutsu lessons involving long-range targets. He had researched the main family, and the ancestry of his aunt. Only had his uncle known the family history, the photos revealing men and women, their faces clad in distracting wire frames. "You can't hide it forever," Neji sighed.

"W...what?" Hinata squeaked, tilting her head up gently. Again, the left eye gave it's tell, the muscle spasm below the eyelids indicating her fatigue. The girl instinctively enveloped her eyes with her open right hand, rubbing the lids with her fingers and thumb contracting towards the bridge of her nose. "I-if you mean Naruto-kun, I-"

"A blind shinobi is useless on the battlefield, but even if you can correct your vision to meet the requirements for chuunin status, Uncle will not pass on the control of the clan to someone who cannot fully tap into the Byakugan." Neji's analysis was cold and precise as ever, leaving little room for emotional support. The former heiress shrunk a couple centimeters in stature, leaning forward, glancing down at her feet, studying the details she could only make out directly below her. "How far can you see?"

"I-it started a few months ago, when I tried to learn the more advanced-"

"I didn't ask for a medical history!" her cousin barked, causing her to shrink further. He glared at her. "How far can you see?" He let out a muffled grunt when the girl froze, unable to respond. He reached into the pouch tucked away under his dress robes, revealing a scarred, blunted kunai. "See this?" he snapped, holding the instrument close to the girl's face.

As Hinata started to nod, Neji coiled his arm back, and hurled the blade skyward. She couldn't tell the direction it landed by sound, as the clang of steel on the hard concrete walls of the nearby barracks echoed in the barren inner perimeter just beyond the graveyard. Sound was useless, so she had to try by sight and sight alone. She formed the seals, but a firm clasp of her hands restrained her. "No!" Neji barked again. "It's close enough you won't need that. Now, where is it?"

"I-I can't-!" she started.

Neji shook her by the left shoulder, leaving a light impression of his fingers into her bicep. "Quit making excuses and do it! Where is it?" Hinata lowered her head, and pointed, her right index finger forming a straight line at least thirty degrees off of where the blade landed. Neji sighed. "That is only twenty meters away, and you can't see it." The cousin rubbed his forehead protector, inconspicuously scratching at the seal which bound him to the weaker of the family. "The only thing you're good for now is walking into an ambush, or getting picked off while on point." The cousin scowled. "Do you really think you will do your team any good dead?"

"But, if I try to see a doctor, or get glasses, I'll-" she stammered.

"Uncle will punish you, yes," Neji grumbled. "But a lifetime of his scorn is better than dying from a lie." Neji turned his back to the girl, and stared into the darkening sky. "If you have no missions tomorrow, Ten Ten and I will take you to the optometrist."

"Neji-san?" she squeaked. Why was he being so kind to her? What was this change, and why had she not noticed it before?

"I'm only fulfilling my duty as a member of the branch family, making sure the main branch does not grow soft," he answered. "Ten Ten knows a great deal regarding field equipment, and can help you make a proper selection of combat-rated frames."

"And... why are you-?" she started, before the cousin interrupted her.

"Who else with extensive knowledge of the Byakugan would bother investing in your _only_ saving grace?" Hinata could not determine if she hated her cousin, or loved him. He was insulting her abilities, but was going out of his way to ensure she could stand on her own, and uphold the responsibilities she had sworn to perform as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf Village. In a way, he was her guardian, ensuring she would grow up to make something of herself.

Her head tilted upward to the sky, the blurred, undefined stars did not seem so disappointing. Perhaps, she thought, she would see them as early as tomorrow.

•••••••••••••

"Ah, he's not dead!" the old man cheered in sarcastic delight. The large bodyguard stomped towards Uzumaki, taking a hold of the boy's hair, tearing out a tuft as he dragged the genin to a rotting, stained canvas sack. Naruto groaned, his body frigidly cold as the hallucinogen wore off two days later. His arms still burned, the bulges of spongy tissue under his skin, which he later learned were the muscle fibers, scraped against his bones as he tried to crawl to his knees. However, before he could regain his footing, the kunai came out, slashing at the boy's head. Locks of hair were torn from his scalp, leaving bald patches as the boy slumped under the pull of gravity.

"W-why?" Naruto croaked, his eyes opening slowly.

"It makes cleaning up the mess so much easier if there's no hair," the towering giant with the kunai boomed. "If you struggle, I might just cut out your brain prematurely." Somehow, Naruto did not react to the thought of an improvised lobotomy, the gutting, or cannibalizing of his organs for the medical nin of this unknown hidden village. What was said next, however, did cause a reaction. "And when we find this girl, this Hinata you kept talking about... well, there are very kinky ways to interrogate a kunoichi with her dismembered boyfriend-"

Uzumaki Naruto didn't remember when he grabbed the kunai, or how he could manage to conceal it. All he remembered was the rusted implement lying by the canvas sack. But that didn't matter. As his mind snapped wide awake at the mention of things done to the Hyuuga girl, he began to process the situation in a new light. The man was big but slow, and as he realized his left arm was still good, Naruto let out a feral grin. The fuse was lit, the blade pressed against his left side, keeping it from sight. "What's the matter?" the man grumbled, waiting for a response. His vision was blurry, head throbbing, but that did not matter. There was no emotional connection to the physical pain anymore. Six months of constant torture would do that to a man. In effect, he was numb to anything they could do to him.

The old man was right, Naruto thought. Since the drugging, he was perceiving things in a whole new way. The speed at which he delivered the fatal blow without so much as a facial twitch was proof enough of that.

It was a foolish mistake, the bodyguard letting his guard down, regardless of the condition of the prisoner. Perhaps, if the left and right hemispheres of his brain were not separated by the kunai shoved into his skull, the shinobi who toppled back could have reflected on that thought. Naruto fell backwards to the soft earth, taking the kunai from the large, dead man's hand. It was a simple task, he discovered, to rise up to his feet at the mention of Hinata's potential torture. If there was anything he would do, he would do it willingly to ensure her above all others would never have to experience this place.

As the dark corridors of the tunnel soaked in the rich, red blood of the trainee sinking down into the mud beside his feet, Naruto held his face rigidly still. There was still anger, but there was another way to express it now. This, he thought, was how a true shinobi behaved. Their hate was disguised or revealed by the method with which they completed the mission. That was the difference between Sausuke, Orochimaru, and those ninja who prevailed in Konoha. The ones who remained learned control, and carried out their acts with a ruthless efficiency. It was not about looking cool, not like Sausuke had tried to do. It was about professionalism.

"How are you doing this?" the old man barked, reaching for the crossbow in the corner. As Naruto's eyes had a chance during unconsciousness to adjust to the dark, he could tell the tip was armed with an explosive tag. The Jinchuuriki hesitated for a split second, trying to assess the situation. If he telegraphed his intentions, there would not be enough time to prevent his enemy from discharging the bolt, killing them both.

Fortunately for him, the old man had just recently entered from the trap door some two hundred meters or more away, meaning he could have been exposed to daylight. The assumption was proven correct as the man stumbled, waving the crossbow left and right, trying to listen for the boy.

Naruto, during the months in captivity, on the other hand, learned to remain perfectly silent. It first started out as a simple way to avoid the enemy knowing how badly they had hurt him. Later, as the constant abuse became routine, he simply learned to ignore most of what they had done to him. For the majority of the constant cycle of breaking bone, healing, then breaking them again, it was another annoyance he adapted to, just as the first outing into the Wind Country taught him to ignore the itching sensation across his skin from insects and the harsh winds.

"Where are you?" the man cried, looking back and forth to each side of the room, still blinded from the sun's glare outside. Uzumaki took slow, deliberate steps, crouching on the ground. He moved barely a meter every minute, but that gave him just enough time to reach the reinforced wall of the tunnel. His chakra points were sealed, but that could be easily overcome, he considered, as he drove the first kunai into the bare spot of the tunnel wall. The soil was just sturdy enough to support his weight as he rose up with his left arm, crawling towards the wooden rafters.

The kunai made an excellent perch to glare down and observe his prey, who had foolishly moved closer to his comrades. While he kept his back to the wall, holding the weapon outstretched, he was moving further away from the door to the interrogation room. As the old man leaned forward over his comrades' bodies, he could smell the boy was still there, though he could not see him. "Wherever you are," he growled, "I could kill us both with one shot!"

As the old man rounded the perimeter, it all made sense to the genin. These were not typical shinobi, he considered. They were genjutsu specialists, but that was all. Every tactic they used, every move they made, was a poor attempt to mimic techniques he had already been taught as an academy student. These were not ninja, but simple guerrillas copying what they had seen. As the old man approached his position, Naruto crouched on the kunai foothold, locking his ankles together as he dropped towards the floor.

The old man felt a hand clamp down against his mouth, jerking him back as a blade slammed into the back of his neck. As he fell away, his futile attempts at breathing leaking through the hole in his spinal column, Uzumaki hung inverted by his ankles from the tunnel wall, snarling.

Those survivors of the tunnel ran, hearing the muffled cries of their comrades, then silence. The three who made it to the east escape route bolted for the stolen war horses, frantically hitching a battered wagon to four of the animals. They were only thieves, doing their best to take the stolen goods. Had they been true shinobi, they would have known better, and simply ran. The smallest of the three, loading the last of the gold aboard, suddenly slumped forward, face buried in the wooden crate. In the last few moments of his life, the thief tried reaching towards the crossbow bolt buried in his back, before the explosive tag burned down to the critical seal.

The war horses galloped madly from the burning fragments of the wagon, debris falling back from their parabolic trajectories. As three disappeared from sight, the lead horse limped away, turning back to stare at the mad figure which stumbled towards the flaming wreckage. His right arm still useless, Naruto Uzumaki let the single crossbow tumble to the ground, loose from his grasp. Another crossbow, sat in the debris, the coarse, abused wood scorched by the flames.

As the boy walked up to it, he reached into the fire, retrieving the smoldering instrument without so much as a wince. With a cold glare, he locked eyes with the remaining horse, and stumbled towards the east.

•••••••••••••

The heavy frames were made of durable plastic, coated in an olive drab green, while a nylon cord hooked behind the ears to prevent them being lost. The yellow coated optics were a scratch-resistant, high impact material, perfect for the wear and tear of the job. It came with a small pouch containing replacement screws, a compact screwdriver, and a swatch of scratch-preventative cloth for quick cleaning in the field. All in all, it was perfect for any mission Hinata could undertake. Neji nodded approvingly, after noticing none of the features limited the Byakugan.

Hinata scowled at herself in the mirror.

"She looks... interesting," Ten Ten tried to phrase politely, a nervous smile twitching across her face. The demoted heiress turned, and glared. "Okay, okay!" the brunette apologized, waving her hand. "We'll find something else!"

"What do you mean something else?" Neji groaned. "We've been here for three hours, and look at this!" He gripped his cousin's head firmly in both hands, repositioning her for inspection. Hinata started to sweat nervously. "This is ideal for close quarters combat! She cannot possibly find anything better-"

The Hyuuga genius felt a rap to the side of his head, the brunette trying out a new pair of studded steel gloves to replace her former leather pieces. Neji retracted his hands, and caressed his right temple gently. "Ne-ji!" Ten Ten whined like a child. "This is ridiculous! A kunoichi is supposed to be deadly _and_ elegant! This will not do!"

"Will you two just hurry up?" he snarled. "We've wasted the entire day. If Gai-sensei finds out, we'll-"

"Fine, fine!" Ten Ten sighed. Slowly, she knelt by Hinata, still frozen in the examiner's chair. "Hinata, what do you think?" In her hands, a slender wire frame caressed two small, oval lenses. Resting them on her ears and nose, HInata grinned in the mirror. The four-eyed comment did not apply at all, as the frames helped enhance the feminine curves of her face. She blushed, wondering what Naruto would think-

She froze, her eyes shifting down to her feet. "Hinata?" Ten Ten asked. Neji shook his head, picking up the girl's latest tell. Again, her face twitched just below the left eye, and again the choking sigh could be heard only by his ear. He knew she was thinking of _him_. "I think they look good on you!" the brunette exclaimed. The Hyuuga girl smiled softly, blinking rapidly to control the tears. "What do you think?"

"What... do I think?" the feminine Hyuuga stuttered. "Um.. well, I..." She blushed as she looked at herself in the mirror. However, these would be too fragile, and completely unsuitable for a mission. She could already see Neji grimace, rubbing at his face in irritation. Still, she needed to make some kind of decision regarding a pair of glasses. Neji was right. They had wasted a lot of time with both of the Team Ten genin trying to push her towards one style or another. She had yet to exercise her own free will.

Suddenly, an odd memory surfaced in her mind. It was the first day at the academy, and following the lead of the other kunoichis, she made her way to the growing mass tailing the Uchiha survivor. It was then, as the other boys grew annoyed, she noticed an odd figure in orange jitter in his seat, excited for the first lesson. Atop the blonde's head, obviously mimicking the forehead protector they had yet to earn, were a pair of blue-framed-

"Goggles," Hinata blurted out suddenly.

"What?" Ten Ten exclaimed, blinking.

The girl blushed for a moment, and jaabbed her two index fingers together, thinking back to her hero. "Doctor... umm... would you have any prescription...goggles?"

The balding old man let out an exhaustive groan as his tired bones creaked, raising him up to his shrunken stature. "It's about time you let my patient make the decisions," he commented, walking towards the small collection of frames displayed on the opposite wall of the diagnostic equipment. "As a matter of fact, Wind Country's shinobi have just dropped the visual acuity standards now that their optometrists have perfected prescription goggles." He let out a grin. "It just so happens, I have one pair in stock..."

Hinata took the forest green goggles in her hand, a darker gold coating protecting the scratch resistant polycarbonate optics. Placing them on her head, first on her eyes, she noticed the advantage to the coated lenses. Her weakening eyes could easily detect edges, and vastly improved her depth perception. The side vents prevented fogging, while the adjustable elastic strap, after being tucked under her hair, was comfortable as well as inconspicuous. As one final test, she slid the goggles up to her forehead, her eyes beginning to water when she took on the spitting image of her hero.

"Is everything alright?" the doctor asked, taking the goggles back from his patient. "Your eyes are tearing up."

"No, everything is fine," Hinata smiled faintly. "These are perfect." Looking over her shoulder, the blurry image of Neji nodded in approval. Ten Ten hesitated for a moment, but agreed in the end. "Can I have two pair? The goggles for missions, and these when I'm off-duty?" She held up the slender frames Ten Ten had chosen.

"We are having a special," the optometrist grinned. "I"ve been trying to sell this damn pair of goggles for months, and no one's shown any interest in them, not even that jounin, Kakashi." The Hyuugas froze, remembering the Copy Ninja's skill. "The way that man abuses that transplanted Sharingan eye, he'll be stumbling around like a drunk in the dark in no time." He waited for the genin to physically relax. "Anyway, as you are willing to buy these, I'll mark the price down for you."

Neji let out an audible sigh, which was quickly replaced by a grunt when Ten Ten drove her elbow into his gut.

"Could they be ready by tonight?" Hinata asked, blushing as she looked down at her feet.

"Tonight?" the optometrist asked. "Why tonight?"

"I want to see the stars again..." she answered.

The old man smiled. "Absolutely..."

•••••••••••••

Winter was not coming, not even on the verge of approaching, the former genin thought. It was here. The blonde studied the thick snow drifts which blocked the trail, the main trade route which linked Earth Country to Wind Country along the foothills above the village in the distance. The warmblooded bay hated the snow, the scars both stiff and sore in the freezing air. Both rider and mount shifted uncomfortably to ease their arguing joints, their breaths visible as smoky vapors. The heavy wool blanket Uzumaki sat on insulated both him and the warhorse, adding a minimal comfort to their miserable journey which simply dragged on seemingly forever.

The villagers shook when they saw the cloaked figure approach, the horse hissing out into the air. His right arm, while in a crude bamboo splint, was still able to wield the heavy crossbow, identical to the other which hung from his frozen left hand. The bolts rattled with every step of the horse in their quiver, while the small canvas pouch of coins jingled like sleigh bells. The rider dismounted at the warlord's home, dropping off the frail passenger.

"Father!" the raven-haired girl cried, throwing off the canvas rags that served as her cloak. She leapt into the old man's outstretched arms, his lean, scarred muscles tensing as his youngest daughter was once again home. "Father!" she cried again, her tears freezing only seconds after they left her eyes.

The lord reached for the tiny sack of coins, throwing them to the rider. "I thought you hated mercenaries," Naruto scowled, taking the pouch without hesitation. He needed the money desperately, as both he and the horse needed constant feeding to keep up their calories. "What's with the sudden change of heart?"

"I can no longer afford to put principles above family," the lord answered, his daughter looking back at the cold blue eyes of the cloaked rider. "Just take it, and go. I'm dropping all charges against you, but _never_ come here again!" Naruto nodded angrily, coaxing the bay about, now backtracking towards Wind Country. "Your home is not far, Mercenary," the lord added, causing Uzumaki to stop. "Just go back, grow fat, raise some children, and forget this despicable _profession_."

"For a missing nin," Naruto spoke, riding to the east, "home is always far."

•••••••••••••

The snow came from the west, the storm sounding the changing of the seasons. The light, powdery substance coated the village streets, the trees, and lit Konoha with the fading reflection of the sun. Hinata looked out the window of the compound, only to see a blurry white mass clumped on the ground. It was not until she gripped the elegant frames, and placed them on her head that the world focused into discrete objects. The girl let out a soft smile, pulling the soft, green blanket tighter around her. The cold gave her an excuse to huddle with a blanket, all to act feminine. Then came the conclusion tonight would be the night.

Within twenty minutes, she was dressed in her mourning attire, thick insulated boots replacing her normal footwear. The kimono was enough, at least for a short visit, but her feet needed protection from the elements. The light was fading in the west, meaning she had to hurry. Peering around each corner, she thought no one had noticed.

"Hinata!" the booming voice of the main family head echoed through the aged walls of the compound. The girl froze, her head turned away from the source of the sound. "Hinata, where are you going?" Hiashi stepped forward, noticing the ceremonial kimono she wore, and something on her eyes. "Turn around!"

The former heiress complied, the glint from the lenses of her glasses blocking out the steel-colored eyes from boring into her own. When the father realized, however, what she was wearing, there was no need to read her eyes, or her body language. Rather, all that was necessary was the understanding what those accursed things framing her face meant.

"W-when?" Hiashi coughed. Hinata visibly shrunk, her head tilting towards the ground. "Damnnit, answer me! When did this happen?" Still, there was no response, at least no verbal one. The girl shrunk further, her fingers twitching nervously, trying to find something to occupy her mind other than the loud roar of her father. "Who else knows about this?"

"My team, Kurenai-sensei, Neji-san-"

A swift blow struck the girl from the cold, hazy air which seemed to penetrate the defenses of the compound. Her face rang out in pain, stinging even further as yet another blow struck the same location, knocking her glasses to the floor. The strikes continued, all with an open palm, all with enough force to drive the point home. "A HYUUGA NEVER WEARS GLASSES!" the voice screamed at the top of the man's lungs. "OUR EYES ARE OUR VALUE. WITHOUT YOU YOUR EYES ARE USELESS, WITHOUT YOUR EYES, _YOU_ ARE USELESS!" A few short breaths, and another blow to the face later, Hiashi spoke again. "Repeat what I said, _all_ of it!"

"A...a Hyuuga never wears..." she started, before the tears began to flow.

Another series of blows, and the voice boomed again. "STOP CRYING! REPEAT WHAT I SAID!"

Before she could, the mind of Hyuuga Hinata made a life-changing decision. She was intelligent, of course, but intelligence and bravery, or the nerve to betray, are completely different things. Her right foot, the dominant one, started first, twisting on its heel, and taking a step away from the man. Her left foot followed like the obedient limb it was, as did the rest of her body. Her father reached out, and tore at the girl's kimono, hoping to restrain her without resorting to taijutsu.

The pajama-clad girl sprinted from the compound as the temperature of the valley rose, bringing rain to eradicate the snow.

•••••••••••••

Uzumaki woke from his daze, his senses immediately attuned to the howl of the blizzard. The screams cried out to him once again, just beyond the shadows of night. The snow showered him relentlessly, both he and his mount knee-deep in the powdery drifts as they crossed the treacherous expanse of tundra. The forest was only another thirty meters away, yet that stretch contained wolves, or a hidden bandit waiting to ambush him.

The soft, feminine voice took on a sob, causing the hairs on his neck to stand on end under the limited comfort of the canvas cloak. He could hear her pleading voice, asking "why aren't you here?", or "why did you leave me?" For the most part, though, it only repeated his name in the howling wind. "Naru-to," the high pitched whine of the wind gusts cried out.

Something was wrong.

Uzumaki pulled the horse to a trot, forcing the both of them on. There would be no more delays. He would not waste any more time. Konoha was only a few days away. The warm weather would be there. His friends would be there. More importantly, _she_ would be there.

"Naru-to!" the wind howled again, answered by the cries of wolves.

•••••••••••••

Hinata tried to hide the bruises behind the mud which had coated her face and clothes when she fell into the dirty side streets of Konoha. She still didn't understand what she was doing here, not at Ten Ten's home. However, there were very few places she could go at this point in time. The knock on the door was soft, a mouse's attempt to make itself known. She heard each footstep from within the modest structure, her heart pounding with every creak of carpentry. She would do anything to be somewhere else.

The door opened slowly, the brunette with hazel eyes staring out into the night air. "Hinata?' the girl squeaked. "What... what happened?" Clearly the make-up had been running in the pouring rain of the cold night. The snow, which had barely had a chance to form, was gone. All purity of the outside had disappeared when this girl arrived. Perhaps, Ten Ten thought, this was the curse of the Hyuuga name. The bruises around her face and neck were large, far larger than those Neji could deliver. Even after the chuunin exams, when the cousin had battered her about the arena, he was leaning to appreciate Hinata when her vision improved, as did her confidence. There was no need to beat her into fighting anymore.

No, these were the marks made by a grown man, an aged man with expertise in the higher techniques of their gentle fist combat style. "I would... rather not say," the girl squeaked. Ten Ten cringed as she stepped away from the door, letting the girl in. She was soaked, her normal attire replaced by a cotton t-shirt and pants, clearly her pajamas. As the fragile girl stepped in to the warm, comforting home, Ten Ten retrieved a large towel, wrapping up the fidgeting Hyuuga in the soft fabric.

The girl jumped, causing a sting to Ten Ten's heart. She was so frightened, so easily crushed. For someone to break her further, when Neji finally started to comment to Gai about how his cousin was quickly making up for her limited skill, that was just cruelty. Hinata eased into Ten Ten's arms, shivering while wrapped in the blanket. "Your body temperature is dropping," the brunette replied sternly. "Hypotheermia is setting in."

It took six minutes of arguing with the stubborn, shy Hyuuga to finally get her disrobed and in the hot bath water. Within seconds, however, Hinata's tense muscles eased, her shaking slowing, and her mind slowly closing off the millions of frantic, painful memories which kept her on edge. Ten Ten sat beside her, patting down the bruises softly with a warm washcloth. "What.. happened to your glasses?"

"Father... broke them..." Hinata whispered, her voice choking on the shallow gasps for air. The breaths quickened, then slowly eased into a soft, steady patten as Ten Ten took the girl's right hand. "Why... why are you so nice to me?"

Ten Ten did not have an answer, as she wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders. She did, however, have a solution. "You're staying here for the next few days," the brunette growled. "Neji and I will help you until you can find a place away from the main family compound."

Hinata closed her eyes, and leaned back into Ten Ten's arms. "O-okay..." She was too tired to argue, not after sinking into the bath water. She couldn't think about why her cousin would help her, the consequences of Ten Ten's words, or how she would support herself on a genin's income. Rather, her mind only turned again and again to the lonely marker amongst the melting snow. She had failed to reach it that night.

•••••••••••••

Killing while a shinobi was easy, Naruto thought. However, killing as a mercenary, he found, was much harder. As a shinobi, he was a tool dispatched to complete a mission already engineered by superiors with a cold wisdom. They were capable of determining the risks. As a mercenary, though, there was no satisfaction of orders from above. He could not shrug the responsibility of his actions off to others. Even though he never did, even though he embraced his way of the ninja, there was a certain comfort knowing he would have a guide for right and wrong.

That, he thought, he could still not find.

The dream woke him once again from the only sound sleep he had in the two months since his escape. The bodies fell before him as though struck down with a plague. His chest glowed an unusual shade of red, seeming to burn with a hate he could not control. He knew the source of that hate, and wondered if he could ever master it, as yet another body fell. His chakra points sealed, and the prison further locked down, he could not help but feel the beast within him eating away at his defenses. It would find a way to consume him, if he did not remain on guard.

The three bandits fell to the ground, screaming as they burned alive into masses of carbon remains. As he traced his hand to wipe the blood from his face, Naruto felt the smirk formed by his lips, and tried to push it back.

The horse shook him awake, nuzzling the boy's forehead. It was a simple act the warmblood learned to repeat again and again. As the two approached the Fire Country, these fever dreams seemed to occur more often. Still, the bay also reacted differently as they approached the border, but not for the same reasons. This boy, it discovered, was different. There were no harsh strikes, no screams, or demands backed by pain. Trust was still far from developing, but there was less to guard against.

Uzumaki no longer considered himself worthy of his first name. That name, he determined, was used with a happy teasing, and fond memories once he became a genin. It was also too childish for his new role, and for the sickly, sticky feeling of dirty blood on his hands that could not quite be washed away with the responsibility of a soldier. He was a killer now, and while he fought for good, without a morality to guide him, it was no different than murder for hire.

What made him worthy of Hinata's love?

The former shinobi clenched his fists, and listened to the dark cries of the wind. The snow had eased some, but still, the girl's voice screamed out his name. "Na-ru-to!" the wind howled, causing the trees to shudder. Slowly, the boy rose to his feet, dusted the snow off of his tattered gear, and guided the horse along to the east. He left the fire burning, if only as a marker to determine his direction.

No, he considered. It was more than a marker. As he felt the weight of his weapons pull him into the frigid snow, the heat of the comforting flames continued to offer him a light to guide his path. It was a sign of civilization, of hope, and

a means to separate his objective from the darkness. It was, as he looked back one last time, something which was still burning in the east. It was burning in that village he once called home, and would be there to comfort him once again.

"Hinata," he breathed.

•••••••••••••

The meeting, while rushed, was quite organized. For only a two week period, Kurenai had to admit, she was impressed at everyone's professionalism. The research on the Hyuuga's patriarch structure, and the means it was enforced was accurate to the last detail. Of course, it was not something surprising, coming from a village of shinobi. She scowled at the head of the Hyuuga main family. "I asked you a question," Hiashi growled. "Where is my daughter?" Kurenai, however, refused to answer. "If you refuse me, the consequences will be severe."

"And if I report you for child abuse, again, the consequences will be severe," she replied, folding her hands, sitting beside Gai, Neji, Ten Ten, Kakashi, and the other genin team leaders. "You once entrusted me with her safety, and now, you choose to endanger your own daughter's life?"

"She is crippled," the man explained. "There is no other way to describe it. Without her eyes, she is nothing, will be nothing, and can hope to achieve nothing." The genjutsu specialist let her lips pull into a frown, hands clenching each other to the point her knuckles turned white. "You were to protect her as long as she was useful as a shinobi. Now, she is useless, and no longer falls under your protection."

"She is _not_ useless!" Ten Ten yelled, leaping to her feet, hands bracing her against the long wooden conference table. "With glasses, her vision is perfectly corrected. She can still use the Byakugan. How is that useless?"

Hiashi folded his arms, refusing to give in to a commoner. "She will remain on my team," Kurenai spoke calmly, sliding a thick stapled packet towards the man. "This was approved by the Hokage earlier today. It is Hinata's emancipation. For all intents and purposes, she is now considered an adult by our village law, and can live where she chooses."

The elder Hyuuga rose to his feet, knocking his chair to the floor. "Fine!" he hissed. "Do what you must!" As the man stormed out of the room, Kakashi glanced at each of his comrades. Things, he considered, were not going quite according to plan. Kurenai sighed. "What is it, Kakashi?"

"He is right," the Copy Ninja answered. "WIthout her eyesight, all of her techniques are compromised. Even with corrective lenses, all an enemy needs to do is remove her eyewear, and she is disabled."

Kurenai nodded, but stood by her decision. "She is my student, and I will stick by her." She nodded in respect to Neji, then Ten Ten. "How is Hinata?"

"She has a replacement pair for the glasses her father destroyed," the brunette genin answered, making sure her disapproval of the main family was clear. "Her bruises are healing, and she is back to training, but something is still wrong. She has been visiting the graveyard quite often."

"That is not necessarily a bad thing," Gai spoke up. "It is good to reflect on the lives of the fallen, to serve as an example for living the life of shinobi."

"No, I mean... she has been visiting one grave in particular," Ten Ten corrected. "She is there for hours on end."

Kurenai sighed. "Okay," she breathed. "I will take care of it."

•••••••••••••

The ANBU patrols had been on alert for nearly eight months since the departure of Jiraiya and Naruto, and things had not settled down. There were rumors of saboteurs lurking around every corner. They were no longer hired shinobi from the hidden villages, but instead were crude special forces units, with limited ninjutsu training. However, they had the advantage in weaponry, and someone from the various shinobi clans was foolish enough to teach them advanced genjutsu.

There had been four attempts to breach the Konoha perimeter, either using genjutsu, explosives, or more crude entering techniques. Tunneling, Tsunade thought, had gone out of style decades ago, long after proper penetration techniques were honed to an artform. She sat in her office, looking out the window into the raining, gusty weather. Still, she considered, their methods were effective for stirring up trouble. Their diversions were enough to keep everyone on alert, and do what any good covert ops agent attempts to do.

They were keeping everyone in the village in a panic.

The Hokage glared at the latest communique from the Sand Village. There were rumors of yet _another_ faction, this one demanding sovereignty within the borders they conveniently selected along a major trade route between Wind and Fire Country. She would have to divert the enhanced patrols along the perimeter to protect the main trade route. If necessary, they would have to form a blockade, and somehow juggle the politics of the region during their diplomatic dance.

This would be troubling enough on it's own, but the fact a growing majority of hard-liners from the village council were influencing the younger generations, particularly the newly appointed jounin, forced her to pull in the reins with bluff and bluster in regular political speeches. She was not meant for the Hokage role, not at all. She could handle regular paperwork, but having to appeal to the good senses of a village with no sense left in it was insanity.

"Tsunade-sama!" Shizune cried. "We have reports of an enemy force challenging the blockade!"

Tsunade sighed. "What else is new?" she groaned. This shuffle back and forth over the imaginary line in the sand was pathetic. It had gone on for two weeks, always the same dance. The faction would send a squad of their elite troops to skim the blockade, threaten to toss some shuriken their way, wait for their jounin to give chase, then retreat into the woods. The woman froze, realizing her apprentice was fidgeting, holding back important information. "Well?"

"They're... asking for political asylum," she answered.

"They're _WHAT_?" the Hokage roared, her voice carrying through the city center of Konoha. "Dispatch a reconnaissance squad west of the blockade. I want answers, and I want them immediately." Tsunade studied the paperwork laid out on her desk. Before her assistant could leave, she signaled her one last time. "Shizune, order the following chuunin to my office immediately."

"Tsunade-sama?"

"It's time to replenish the ranks."

Tsunade sat back at her desk, pulling the files of several shinobi of chuunin rank, when she felt the slightest of sensations. It took her several minutes afterwards to determine it was a killing intent, but even without knowing the meaning, it made her skin crawl. Someone had slipped past her office's defenses, and was close enough to reach out and touch her anytime they wished. Trying to act naturally, the Hokage turned her office chair's back towards the window behind her, and with her profile hidden, sank under her desk, remaining there for a half an hour before Shizune reentered.

The genjutsu proven to have worked, and the target of the girl's hate put in her place, Hinata leapt from the nearby skyscraper, her actions observed only by her conscience.

•••••••••••••

The warhorse carried it's rider into the brunt of the oncoming infantry, gasping for air as the wounds to its calves stung with each step. Still, those could be ignored, while the furious screams of the mercenary could not. The bare-chested figure, raising both arms to his sides, loosed the bolts of each crossbow, their explosive tags igniting upon release. The bandits were already running, but the split second of time available to them upon impact of the arrows on their targets was not enough to cover the blast radius.

The soldiers whose bodies contained the barbed heads of the bolts suffered the most damage, scorched limbs flopping to the ground in a broiling, soggy bath of red. The enemy replied with their own volley, the archers standing behind the protection of the treeline in the distance. Several found their way into the rider, causing him to flop back against the flank of the bay.

But a single thought kept tearing at the sanity of his mind, driving away the pain. "Hinata..." the man hissed, pulling himself back to a sitting position. "Hinata," he breathed again, unsheathing the rusted saber from the canvas pack of his mount. "HINATA!" he cried again, bringing the blade down on a running archer, the lightly-armored bandit charging him with a katana. The head showed no expression as it bouced, rolling along the sloped hillside away from the treeline. The body continued to run two or three steps before the arms pitched forward, driving the katana into the dirt, impaling the corpse on the hilt.

"HINATA!" the mercenary screamed over and over, slashing at the running men, all shouting, their war cries replaced with pleas for their master to retreat. The warhorse snarled, letting out a warbling cry as it leapt over the burning supply carts, its hair singed from the knees down. But they did not stop. The rider brought the saber stiffly to the ground, letting his splinted arm rest as he charged the final target.

The warlord urged his horse away, but the animal bucked and whinnied. It was an untrained animal, just captured from the lat village they had raided. That was the mistake Suzuki of the Free Republic of Wind Country would never make again. As he crawled to his feet from the mud, his sword hand shook. The smoldering mount, its blood-clad rider, red eyes behind the crimson-stained flesh, the glint of rusted, war-torn steel; all of these were images the man would recall for years to come. "Master!" one of the wounded bandits barked, limping to his side. "Get out of here!"

Slowly, the brain of the would-be ruler of the rebelling faction caught up with his legs, his back turned as the mercenary's saber punched through the footman's chest. Without stopping, Uzumaki tilted the blade upward, letting the sharpened edge slice cleanly with the momentum of the horse, splitting his prey open. Suzuki could hear the bandit take two desperate steps downhill, then flop to the earth in three pieces.

As the warlord heard the deafening clop of hooves on the blood-rich soil, the night mist enveloping both victim and executioner, he felt the crushing weight of a dead man knock him to the side. Both he and his pale, impaled comrade slumped behind a fallen tree as the rider passed them over, still crying out into the night his ear-splitting shriek. "Hin-a-ta!"

•••••••••••••

Kurenai found her pupil, just as predicted, sitting beside the grave marker. The winter storms had faded for the most part, and left the remainder of the seasons with heavy rain, thick mud, and cloudy, joyless skies. There was no pleasure in this, not at all. However, the genin could not pull herself away. There was a calling to her from this marker, the feeling that no matter what she would do, the greatest joy she could ever have achieved in her life ended here, in this forsaken sector of the village.

"You have to let go, Hinata," Yuuhi said, not startling the girl. She was surprised how her student simply kept facing the grave, yet aware of her presence. Her skills with Byakugan, while effective within her normal field of vision, were practically useless from behind, unlike the others of her clan. As the eyesight further deteriorated with the use of her bloodline limit, her ability to sense approaching hostiles had not. "Are you listening?"

"Is this a test?" the cast out heiress asked. "You have a kunai in each hand, and you are in a defensive posture." The jounin blinked, studying the black kimono-wearing girl with interest. "Each person walks, moves, and speaks in such a way as to leave a certain signature," she explained. "Your sound is softer than Neji's, and far easier to tell when there's a killing intent."

"You... were able to tell that all from sound?" the jounin exclaimed. "That's... impossible!"

Hinata turned towards her sensei, and bowed, glancing over the edge of her wire framed glasses. Her teacher's face was a beige blur, her features indistinguishable from a smear of grease on a whitewashed wall. "I have to," she explained. "It's getting worse. I've had to have the prescription changed again."

"_A-again_?" Kurenai squeaked. "But... it shouldn't be that-"

"It happens every time I use the Byakugan now, even with the lightest effort," the girl interrupted. "It doesn't matter what I do. As long as I use that technique, I will go blind." Hinata looked down at her feet, the ground seeming to swallow the puddles of fair skin and open-toed assault shoes. "Kurenai-sensei, I won't be a chuunin, will I?"

Yuuhi walked up to her student, and gently placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "You can, and you will, I know it!" She tried to smile, but it always came off false. The Hyuuga turned again, her back facing the instructor. "Hinata, please, just give it some time. You're away from the main family. You can study any taijutsu and ninjutsu techniques you want now."

"It will not be the same," Hinata countered. "I... I can't compete with him!" she started to sob. "How can I live his dream for him if I can't even compete as an adequate genin?" The tears started to pass through her defenses, staining her corrective lenses in saline. It wouldn't be hard to clean, but she would have to do that at the small apartment, the one a certain deceased genin used to call home. "I... I even live in his old apartment!" she shrieked. "It's _her_ fault..." the girl hissed.

"Who's fault?" Kurenai asked, the hairs on the back of her neck starting to stand on end. There was something so wrong about this. Hinata, while under her guidance, was depressed but under control. This girl, this falling, misguided thing, on the other hand, could only be summed up as unstable. "Hinata... you're scaring me."

Another set of footsteps emerged from her blurred, fading world as Kurenai held her. "H-Hinata?" Ten Ten whispered. The Hyuuga did not respond. "Hinata... Gai-sensei told me he is willing to offer you specialized taijutsu training. I... I've seen Lee come close to defeating Jyuuken several times. It's just a matter of-"

Hinata delivered an elbow strike to her sensei's gut, driving the woman back to the mud. Ten Ten tried to reach out, but before it was possible, the fallen girl formed a crude genjutsu, vaporizing into the pattering rain. "Nothing... that is my destiny," she sobbed into the night, mocking her rescuers. "Nothing..."

Ten Ten's eyes widened, looking left to right along the treeline. When had Hinata learned genjutsu? Kurenai-sensei certainly didn't teach it to her, not with strict instructions from the father as to what she could be taught. She could be anywhere by now, or... to her horror, right beside them. "Kurenai-sensei?" Ten Ten asked.

"We have to speak to the Hokage," Yuuhi answered, stumbling to a sprint. "If we don't hurry, we'll lose another genin."

•••••••••••••

The promotion, Iruka thought, had both advantages and disadvantages. The advantage, of course, was the fact he was able to expand his role as an instructor to the academy graduates. Soon, he thought, he would be Konohamaru's teacher once again. The disadvantage, he considered, was the fact he was here at the mission briefing. Not five minutes after reaching the jounin rank, he was already assigned an S-rank mission.

"We can't afford to be picky," the Hokage kept repeating. "We need feet on the ground, and as many as we can spare." Tsunade pointed towards the map of the magnified view of the Wind-Fire country borders. "If the partitioning of Wind Country continues, the civil war will move into our country, and spill out into the village itself." She allowed the thought to sink in before she elaborated. "Trade routes will be boobytrapped, and we will be forced to withdraw our contracts with our clients to the north while we try to hold off these continuing attacks." Again, she paused.

"Ma'am, then what is our specific mission?" Iruka asked, raising his hand to gain her attention.

Tsunade sighed. "The Sand have had their trade routes cut off, and are asking for support. Our blockade is helping needed supplies and clients get through, but each day the border is challenged. Furthermore, our own village perimeter has nearly been breached four times within the last six months as the conflict has escalated." Pointing to a portion of the map circled in red ink with a wooden stick, she turned to the new jounin. "Within the lsat sixteen hours, one faction in particular has challenged the blockade, and are demanding political asylum. If we let them through, the other factions will lash out, and use the oppportunity to strike. However, if we hold them back, these refugees will also attack our blockade. Your mission is to support the existing ANBU squads, and hold the blockade until we can get permission from the nearest neutral village to redirect the refugees."

"If we cannot hold them back?" another newly appointed jounin asked. Iruka thought he recognized the voice, and saw Shikamaru, now wide awake, analyzing the map intently.

"If the situation escalates, I authorize you to execute the refugees," Tsunade retorted. Several gasps erupted from the conference room. "Our enemies are using guerrilla warfare, something even shinobi cannot defend against. The civilians could be rigged with explosive tags, and we have evidence to support recent claims their genjutsu training is vastly superior to our own. We cannot afford to allow any of their forces to get through. Provoking a political incident is beyond our concern at this time." She took a short breath, letting it out in a sigh. "We have to put the village first, and ask questions later."

As the jounin rose to their feet, Tsunade interrupted. "There is one final thing you must know." The woman's eyes darted about the room, locking gazes with each of the recruits she was sending to their potential death. "There have been several mercenaries reported in the area, most of them hired by the opposing forces who will not hesitate to engage shinobi. One in particular has been observed using advanced techniques only taught in the Hidden Villages. We are dealing with skilled professionals, so keep your eyes open, and if something seems out of place, don't take chances."

•••••••••••••

Uzumaki was wounded, but that did not bother him. Pulling the damp canvas cloak away, his bare chest exposed to the warm air of Fire Country, he could afford to let out a sigh. The cold of the western lands gone, he had one less pain to ignore. The arrows buried in his chest were only flesh wounds, minor inconveniences which he could put on hold until he arrived. The rider was so close now, he could wait another few hours for proper medical treatment. However, he doubted he could wait for the prime motivator of his journey. She had to be there.

The advanced patrol spotted the intruder some five hundred meters away, the figure slumped forward, riding bareback on the wounded bay. That, the shinobi thought, was the giveaway something was off. No one in the Fire Country rode horses, especially a foreign breed like this one. As it approached, they were able to make out the scars across the flank and legs from vicious lashings, and what appeared to be heavy combat use by an abusive owner.

The rider's patchy scalp, deep wounds to his chest, and the dangling, lifeless arms indicated a man who pushed himself to the brink of death. A series of bloody crossbow bolts, arrows, and kunai hung from a similarly stained canvas sack, serving as an improvised saddlebag, while a blunted, bent saber sat across the lap of the rider. The lead ANBU hissed commands to his subordinates, feeling a chill wind gust through their observation post in the trees. A man on the verge of death who continues on his mission was either a gallant hero, or a crazed fanatic. However, one with twin crossbows dangling from his limp fingers bordered on insane. He was not the kind of man who approached life gently.

"Wait, is that?" the youngest of the ANBU, the former chuunin Iruka, asked. He stared, noting the various cuts to the man's chest. His eyes finally fell to the curse seals, like pagan tattoos scarring the battle-torn flesh of his abdomen. "It can't be!" the former chuunin hissed. "Naruto?"

"Do we engage?" another new ANBU asked. The senior jounin shook his head. "But sir, he's heading for the village!"

"Do you know this kid?" the leader asked Iruka.

"Sir, it's one of our own genin... Uzumaki Naruto, I'm sure of it."

The leader rubbed his forehead, trying to clear his head. "Isn't he supposed to be dead?" He blinked for a moment, then stared at the incoming target. "He doesn't look like any genin we would train." Iruka started to protest, but was cut off. "Alright, we'll tail him, but we're running silent. If he tries anything, we'll take him down. Get me patched in directly with the Hokage."

One of the newest jounin, another ANBU recruit, traced silently up the treetops to the canopy, hauling a heavy backpack with him. They were ten, maybe fifteen klicks from the village, and needed immediate communication, not the standard carrier birds. The equipment was experimental, the latest in digital signal processing and computer encryption. Opening the backpack, the jounin began assembling the long mast, attaching the ribcage of an antenna to the top mounting bracket. Tossing a thick insulated cable downward, the ANBU tied down the mast, and rejoined his comrades below the canopy.

•••••••••••••

The experimental hotline sprung to life, the mechanical bell ringing frantically until Tsunade answered. "What do you have for me?" she demanded.

"This is ANBU patrol thirty-seven," the lead jounin answered into his headset. "Hokage-sama, we have confirmation Uzumaki Naruto is eastbound on the main trade route towards the village's west gate." Tsunade froze, and stuttered until the jounin continued. "One of the newbies, Iruka, tells me everything adds up, including a certain curse seal holding-"

"This is a prototype!" Tsunade reminded her subordinate. "Until we are certain, no channels are to be considered secure, understood?" She waited for the grunt of acknowledgment. "What does your man say about his condition?"

"It's bad, Sir," he answered. "He's barely conscious, and his horse looks in bad shape, too."

"Horse?" Tsunade asked, a wince hinted in her voice.

"That's what I thought too, Sir. This just doesn't add up, but if it is one of our own, and he's been running from the factions for months, it's likely he's had to improvise." Tsunade reminded herself to consider moving this man into a training position for instructing all chuunin in intelligence gathering. "We're following him passively until the west gate, and then we will slam the gauntlet shut."

"Very good," Tsunade answered. "I will be at the gate personally."

"Sir!" the jounin retorted. "That's too risky. This could easily be a trick. We know how good their genjutsu are."

"You're wrong," she growled. "It's because their genjutsu is so good I _have_ to be there."

•••••••••••••

Hinata had spent a good two days before coming to her final decision. The apartment was cleaned out, her sparse provisions and worldly possessions stashed in her backpack. The landlord was no fool, and knew what the genin was trying to do. However, while it was a crime to deliberately allow a shinobi to escape from the village, there was enough plausible deniability to protect her from punishment. Furthermore, she couldn't necessarily stop the girl in the green goggles, whose skill with taijutsu, she learned, was improving, regardless of her near-sightedness. Rumors had circulated regarding people she had crippled with her latest bout of training, though those sorts of rumors always seemed incredible. Either way, she, an elderly civilian, was not going up against a vengeful outcast of the Hyuuga clan.

The hood covered her features, and with the right papers, she blended in perfectly with the small group of traders en route to Earth Country. There was just too much danger dealing with their old trading partners to the west, and even with an armed escort of shinobi, the factions were becoming desperate. It was better if they just travelled northeast, skirting the borders of Wind Country, maybe making a stop in the Hidden Sand Village where there were reinforcements, before continuing on to the north.

As Hinata approached the convoy, she came to a stop, noticing the large numbers of ANBU standing by the main gate. Did Kurenai already inform the Hokage? No, she thought. There were far too many ANBU just for dealing with a temperamental kunoichi, particularly one who had not yet acquired the skill to take on a jounin. There was something else at the gate, taking both the interest of the civilians and the other ninja during their daily patrols.

The Hyuuga girl approached cautiously, adjusting her goggles under her tan cloak. The bare-chested rider, his head dangling between his shoulders, grunted to the war horse as it crossed the threshold of the main gate to Konoha. "Is... that?" one of the ANBU standing watch on the perimeter wall asked his comrade at the checkpoint below. "B-but... he's dead!" But as the bay snorted, his teeth bared, eyes seeming to burn with hate, the rider rose up. The slack head snapped to attention, revealing the spiral pattern in the metal piece which shielded the scarred forehead. In both hands were crossbows, a single bolt loaded in each, while the reins to the horse were lashed to the buttstock of the one in his right. The horse and rider were a walking armory, nothing like Ten Ten, but disturbing in the crude presence of such arms of defense. Perhaps more disturbing were the arrows buried deep in the rider's upper torso, the bloodstained chest a filthy, festering series of wounds.

"Halt!" one of the guards of the main gate barked. "Identify yourself!"

"Am I late for the chuunin exams?" the man simply asked. At this, the lead guard shook his head. The rider grinned. "Then... there is still time." He suddenly frowned as his body went limp. A shooting pain passed through his spine, and his eyes began to close.

The guards raised their kunai to eye level. "I asked who you were! Identify yourself!" the lead guard barked once again. It was during this commotion the citizens of Konoha started to crowd the main gate's nearest intersections, all whispering in the streets. Within that crowd, the discarded heiress stared. "Tell me who you are!"

"N-Naruto?" Hinata blurted out. A few of the villagers snapped their heads around to the girl, then looked in disgust at the boy on the horse. "Stop!" she screamed at the ANBU. "Let him in!" Hinata was not superstitious, and far from spiritual, often to the distaste of her father. However, a ghost, especially a pale rider, often converts the most headstrong of individuals. Her reaction was not one of fear. As the eyes stung with the back pressure of saline, a few drops slipping past her defenses, the genin sprinted towards what she could only consider a daydream. "Naruto!"

Uzumaki blinked a few times, then noticed the cloaked figure running at speed. He thought he heard the girl's voice, but during his time on the trail, he had heard a lot of things. "Hi-nata?" he asked, his legs slipping, losing their grip on the back of his mount. In seconds, the fatigued boy impacted the firm cobblestone street, his arms crumpling.

The first of the ANBU dove towards the suspicious target, drawing his kunai. Hinata froze, watching in slow motion as the group pinned his unconscious body to the ground. The horse whinnied, kicking savagely at the men. Several stumbled back, only to lash out at the horse, kunai driven deep into its throat. Hyuuga could only scream out into the promenade, running to the mass of bodies. "Naruto!"

•••••••••••••

End of Chapter I

•••••••••••••

Shinobi gone mercenary? It's not necessarily a drastic change, especially for ninja paid for missions. However, how the character of Naruto changed to make this shift possible will be explained in the next chapter.

By the way, I hope this finally stops the complains about short chapters.

Coments/questions, please leave a review.

•••••••••••••


	2. Illusions in the Fire

aI do not own the rights to "Naruto", nor any of the persons, places, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to the series, as well as a critique on it's existing plotline. Therefore, if requested by the owners and distributors of the "Naruto" anime or manga, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Chapter II:**

------------------

_"N-Naruto?" Hinata blurted out. A few of the villagers snapped their heads around to the girl, then looked in disgust at the boy on the horse. "Stop!" she screamed at the ANBU. "Let him in!" Hinata was not superstitious, and far from spiritual, often to the distaste of her father. However, a ghost, especially a pale rider, often converts the most headstrong of individuals. Her reaction was not one of fear. As the eyes stung with the back pressure of saline, a few drops slipping past her defenses, the genin sprinted towards what she could only consider a daydream. "Naruto!"_

_Uzumaki blinked a few times, then noticed the cloaked figure running at speed. He thought he heard the girl's voice, but during his time on the trail, he had heard a lot of things. "Hi-nata?" he asked, his legs slipping, losing their grip on the back of his mount. In seconds, the fatigued boy impacted the firm cobblestone street, his arms crumpling._

_The first of the ANBU dove towards the suspicious target, drawing his kunai. Hinata froze, watching in slow motion as the group pinned his unconscious body to the ground. The horse whinnied, kicking savagely at the men. Several stumbled back, only to lash out at the horse, kunai driven deep into its throat. Hyuuga could only scream out into the promenade, running to the mass of bodies. "Naruto!"_

------------------

The body was dragged slowly to the stretcher, and hauled unceremoniously towards the Hokage Tower. Hinata stood in shock, her mouth moving silently, trying in vain to protest as the restraints were placed on the rider's fractured arms. How they had the nerve to mangle a fellow shinobi after he was unconscious sickened her.

"D-don't..." she started to whimper, her hands balled into fists. The ANBU squad members glanced in her direction, noticing the inconspicuous figure shed the hood of her cloak. They goggles hid the eyes, but the facial structure, the hair, and the stance screamed Hyuuga. There was only a moment for the leader to contemplate this."Don't you _dare_ hurt him!" she yelled, before her body vanished into swirling air.

"Wha-?" one of the ANBU blurted out dumbly.

"Genjutsu!" the leader grunted, preparing his chakra pulse. However, while he did so, he heard the shift of loose gravel on the cobblestone street behind him. He turned just in time for the open palm to drive hard into his jaw, a pulse of chakra flowing through his skin. The brain screamed, then went silent, his body dropping to the ground.

"Hinata!" a familiar feminine voice screamed. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage, slammed a chakra pulse into the cloaked kunoichi. The illusion melted away, her tan cloak, then her limbs, and finally her face revealed as if the air itself was torn away from her figure.

It was only a matter of time, Tsunade thought sadly, as the ANBU each struck at the disgraced heiress. The entire battle lasted perhaps two minutes, before the five wounded ANBU could manage to take the child down. The Hokage shuddered, thinking back to the conversation she had just had with Kurenai and Ten Ten. These problems, she wondered, were they the result of just this one boy?

No, she thought, shaking her head. Calling Uzumaki Naruto just one boy was underestimating the impact he could have on the world. Perhaps, she considered, that is why he would one day become Hokage himself. That is, if her questions were answered, and Morino Ibiki was satisfied. "Take her," Tsunade declared. "Take her to the psychiatric division, and wait for my orders!"

•••••••••••••

The first thing he noticed was the absence of pain. Ignoring it was one thing, but the lack of pain after enduring months of it started to tug on his mind. Was he dead? Was this complete lack of hardship one of the symptoms of death? It took a few moments, but Uzumaki began to realize he was very much alive. The stained, corroded ceiling tiles of the emergency room within the Hokage's tower was proof enough that he was not in the afterlife. Flaws, imperfections, or parodies on absolute perfection were not present in the afterlife he was always taught existed.

All he could feel was the drip of fluid under the skin of his right arm, the intravenous feed supplying a strong tranquilizer. The rest of his body remained numb. There was, however, another sense of feeling, one that he had acquired in the two months scouring the edges of sanity within Wind Country. It was this sense that caused his numbed flesh to buzz with an irritation. Someone was physically close to him.

"H-hey, you feeling alright?" a familiar voice whispered. A certain pink-haired medical nin scrambled to his bedside.

"W-what..." Uzumaki coughed, his voice raspy from the dry oxygen forced down his throat during the procedures. "What do you mean... _alright_?" the rider hissed. Haruno blinked, and turned towards her patient. Even in his numbed state, the mercenary could feel the foul shift in the air. The situation was more confinement than treatment. Even Sakura should have known that.

"Naruto?" Sakura asked, leaning to her side, staring into the dull, lifeless blue eyes. She put her hand on his forehead. "You're burning up. The antibiotics should have done something about that by now." Haruno scowled, her eyes, nose, and mouth all twitching as she prodded every square centimeter of his head. When she withdrew the penlight, checking for pupil dilation, she further scowled. "You might have a concussion," she stated coldly. "But nothing adds up. Naruto, what the _hell_ happened to you? You look like crap!"

"...Torture..." Uzumaki slurred. "I think... maybe five... six months of it... Can't remember... no daylight." Sakura cringed, the tell-tale marks of crude techniques used all over his skin. But there were other marks, too, things that could only have happened if Naruto _allowed_ them to happen. She knew he would endure hardship, but just how much, she was surprised at his determination to live. Sakura blinked for a few moments, then went back to studying her patient. "Tsunade..." he gasped like a winded horse, "she needs to know..." There was a long pause as Hinata flinced, releasing her hold on his sides. The breathing eased, and Uzumaki continued. "The enemy... they're-"

"Bandits, yes, we know!" Sakura answered, placing a finger to her lips to hush him. Her hand trailed down to his head, running her fingers gently through his hair, feeling for other stress fractures in his skull. At least, that's the excuse she made for herself. Part of her natural ability which came with her new medical focus was the ability to empathize with her patients, and with that, knowing how someone in Uzumaki's position wants to be touched.

"No..." Uzumaki shook his head, beads of sweat soaking Haruno's palm. "Not bandits... They're fighting back..." Sakura leaned closer, her patient's breath running out. "Capitol city..." he rapsed. "Specialized military... royalty of the capitol trying to consolidate all provinces... and take the Hidden Sand Village."

Sakura shuddered. Why would the aristocracy of Wind Country want to absorb all the various city-states and autonomous provinces? There had been a mutually beneficial relationship between the various provinces, all who prospered under their own, sovereign rule. If anything, this presumed conquest was destroying everything which Wind Country's various nations had strived over so many years to achieve. "I don't understand!" Sakura pushed. "How would that be beneficial for anyone?"

Naruto struggled to answer, but his breath had run out. He tried to form the words, and when he did so, his eyes rolled upward, head tossing back into the compressed dent in the worn pillow of his gurney. Sakura was about to check his eyes with the penlight again, when the voice above in the observation room boomed over the loudspeakers.

"Let him be," Tsunade spoke. "We have other concerns to deal with."

"Such as?" Haruno argued.

"Take a look at his chakra points, and his... seal..." she stuttered, wondering how much she would have to reveal to her pupil. "The enemy has closed them all off. Until we can reopen the chakra pathways, we cannot heal his superficial wounds."

"Superficial?" the genin snapped. "I hope you are satisfied, Sensei," she snorted.

"No, I'm not," the crackling voice over the loudspeakers answered. Tsunade glared down from the one-way observation window above the interrogation room. "This opens far more questions than it answers. We will need to proceed with a strict plan, or we will be engulfed in this puzzle." She thought for a moment. "For now, I need you to visit the psychiatric division, and study a certain patient."

•••••••••••••

Iruka studied the wounded horse, setting his hand on the warmblood's snout. The beast knocked his hand away, trying to bite the fingers from his hand. It was not in a happy mood, as its rider would not be. The bandages and extensive tranquilizers had helped control the pain, but convincing his superior to properly treat the animal was difficult. There was no point, after all, to use cavalry . They were shinobi, not a conventional mobile military. Fortunately, the Inuzuka household had jounin in their patrol, and warmed up to the idea of treating the mount.

The door to the impromptu veterinary hospital opened, really a shed for supplies, Kiba walking up towards the newly appointed jounin. "Iruka-sensei," he began, "what is this horse to you?"

"You mean," Iruka answered, "what is this horse to Naruto, right?"

The genin blinked, then stared into the cold, black eyes of the creature. There was no pleasure in their company. The bay's ears twitched forward, then the left as it studied its surroundings. As Kiba reached out with the latest semi-solid nutrients mixed with antibiotics, the warhorse smacked his hand away with its snout, before trying to stand, faltering due to the druggings. "What is wrong with this animal?" Kiba snapped. Akamaru yelped in agreement. "Don't tell me Naruto abused it like this..."

"That's definitely not Naruto's doing," the jounin grumbled, offended at the implication. Had they known what Uzumaki was really like, the member of Team Eight would not say such a thing. "Still, why ride a horse? Furthermore, why is the horse so loyal to him?"

"Animal bonds can be quite strong," Kiba answered. "Though we are not equestrians. There are some specialists in Wind Country, but..."

"We will have to do with your mother's advice for now," Iruka sighed. "I just hope she doesn't mind treating it until Naruto can tell us what to do."

•••••••••••••

Tsunade considered the intelligence with a grain of salt. How could it be possible for the conventional forces of the royal family to be involved in all of this? Granted, they could have saboteurs jeopardizing the bandits' movements, but all the action taken against Fire Country was the result of these splintering factions. The bandits were to blame for the casualties of the first four attempts to penetrate their outer walls, as well as the trade embargoes, the looting, and reports of attacks on the outlying villages along the border. Where had the royal military come into play?

Then there were the weapons, samples of which were seized from Naruto, or rather, the rider's arsenal. The crossbow bolts seemed crude at first, but upon closer inspection, each contained genjutsu seals. The weapons themselves also used a style of genjutsu focusing on concealing any killing intent. These passive forms, as far as she could tell, were only cast on the weapons, not under the control of the actual users. That was how Naruto had fought back, she realized.

But then there were the seal techniques used against him to cut off all of his chakra points, and further block the Kyuubi's influence on the Jinchuuriki. This would take a disciple in advanced techniques far too radical for practical military applications. Such studies were restricted to pure research, and only meant as extensions to probe the mystery that was genjutsu.

Taijutsu, everyone realized, had reached its technical maturity centuries before. There were modern variations, of course, but most of them were recent interpretations meant to compensate for perfected techniques, often mimicking similar solutions developed decades before. No matter how many times it was reinvented, it was just another new edition of the same old story.

Ninjutsu had some mysteries left to it, but the principles which drove all variants of ninjutsu were catalogued. The professors and priests who took on advanced study focused more on the bloodline mutations which allowed the latest, unknown categories of ninjutsu to come to fruition. The only mystery left to crack were the cause of the bloodline limits themselves. That was more a philosophical debate than a scientific study.

But genjutsu was wholly different. It was an art of mental manipulation, which, while certain bloodline limits had been detected, could be used by anyone with extensive training. Furthermore, the link between external chakra fields and the enemy's neurological functions were hard to study. There were so many variables, so many unknowns. To properly study the art of genjutsu, one had to have a full understanding of the human brain. The body, in comparison, was far more simple to understand, hence the proliferation of ninjutsu specialization.

This, of course, was also an advantage, the Hokage thought, a grin spreading on her face. Because of the rarity of genjutsu research, with the proper leads, the intelligence division could easily track down the prime cause of the uprising. If they found the genjutsu specialists which trained in these specific forms, they would find the conspirators who hired them.

However, this led her to another stumbling block. How had bandits, with little funding of their own to spend on the price a specialist of this caliber would charge, manage to develop to the point of defeating one of the Saanin? The reminder of Jiraiya caused her to pause, blinking to clear the saline from her eyes when she glanced down at his last, surviving pupil below her. But if Naruto had acquired those genjutsu techniques, as clumsy as his chakra control was, it would be nothing for disciplined amateurs to acquire the skills.

The hotline rang again, causing the woman to jump. Her portable handset was an insecure channel, just enough to tell her caller to await her response when she reached the encrypted trunk lines leading to the transceiver above her office. Although this was the plan, she knew the individual on the other end of the conversation would not wait. He was far too impatient for such subterfuge.

"I will meet you in the office shortly, just give me a moment," Tsunade spoke into the handset. Her quick sprint to the office was not fast enough, apparently, as her guest was already standing, his gaze of impatience weighing down on her like a wall of sand.

Gaara of the Desert, accompanied by Kankuro, Temari, and Baki, glared at her, his frown more comforting than his reported killing grin. "We are here to order you to halt your blockade," the Sand Jinchuuriki spoke without permission. "Any attempt to stall will result in termination of our alliance, and your immediate death-"

"GAARA!" Baki yelped. However, the jounin was driven a step back by the boy's cold eyes, the false ones which existed only as part of the facsimile which was his grainy shell. "My apologies, Hokage Tsunade, but as the future Kazekage, Gaara is quite intent in his wishes."

"Kazekage?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "At his age? He isn't even a jounin yet-"

"He is closing the gap quite quickly," Kankuro, following in his brother's footsteps, and also a chuunin, explained. "Far _too_ quickly," the puppet master mumbled to himself. The fact Gaara had already excelled at the chuunin exams held at Earth Country was no excuse to schedule him so quickly for the final jounin examinations two months after. Furthermore, the vote to make him Kazekage, Kankuro and Temari both realized, was only a hollow gesture. The council felt a tight leash could only be applied to the demon by stroking his ego. Kankuro let out a silent, indignant huff. The council had yet to understand. With Gaara, stroking the ego could be far more devastating than simply saying "no".

"And _why_ would we want to remove the blockade?" Tsunade asked, folding her hands in front of her face.

"The blockade, simply put, is restraining our ability to intervene," Gaara explained. "You expect us to resolve our own country's political problems, but then cut off the main trade route, the _only_ trade route which allows our shinobi to intercept the factions." Tsunade blinked. Perhaps, she thought, there was something to him becoming the Kazekage after all. "Also, we cannot reinforce your front line with our own forces if you do not let us pass."

"Considering the enemy's abilities at genjutsu and clone techniques, it is impossible to say who is who," the Hokage answered. She was about to respond to each of the points made by the Sand, when an odd fact struck her mind. Both Wind and Fire countries excused themselves from the chuunin exams over the last six months, as they both had to rebuild from the devastation brought on from prior events. "Tell me, Gaara," Tsunade asked calmly, "did Naruto apologize to you as I asked him to today?"

"Yes," Gaara answered, receiving a nervous look from his three comrades.

The alarm sounded, Tsunade's index finger pressing the silent alarm hidden under her desk. The ANBU were slow, however, and Gaara, or rather, the clone of Gaara, drew his crossbow.

•••••••••••••

Sakura stared at her friend, or at least the girl she thought was a friend. There were still so many mysteries behind this girl, the disgraced heiress who was wrapped in the canvas straightjacket, her chakra points temporarily bound by medical seals. "Umm... hi... Hinata," Haruno nervously whispered.

The girl looked up slowly, glaring, then looking back down at her restrained feet. It was so annoying, she thought, trapped here with Sakura. She was the one who Naruto sought, not her. She was the one who was closer to Naruto, not her. Furthermore, she was trying to act as though nothing disgraceful happened. Yet, she was the one who was holding the clipboard, a short, crude, and often inaccurate test to determine insanity. Why was she even using her birthname? It was in appropriate, and quite unprofessional, as her father would say.

"Why bother insulting me?" the Hyuuga breathed. The navy blue hair hid the girl's blind eyes, the goggles taken away. In fact, had Hinata been able to see more than a bright blur of indiscriminate colors, she would have recognized the green plastic and yellow-tinted lenses held out in Sakura's hand. "You aren't going to let me see him, are you?"

"You need to be able to see, first," the pink-haired genin replied, her hands reaching out towards Hinata. At first, Hyuuga shrank back, seeing a beige blur coming straight ahead. She struggled to dodge, but found it pointless as the blurs which became hands reached around her head, and pulled the familiar synthetic strap with the two lenses over her head. Sakura, no longer a blur, smiled faintly. "Now, give me just a moment...

"What are you-?" Hinata started. Sakura walked behind the girl, and started to pull the shoulder-length hair out from underneath the headband, guiding it softly to flow over the goggles. Next, the unfamiliar sensation of a comb running through her hair, not by her own hand, signaled at the top of her scalp, working down. "W-why?" Hyuuga asked, nervously twitching.

"You want to make a good impression for Naruto, don't you?" Haruno asked. The medical nin smiled, tilting her friend's head back. "You look nice with longer hair," Sakura commented. "I think he will like that."

"He won't see me," Hinata lamented, her head tilting down dejectedly. "I'm... in here..."

Sakura frowned. She knew the girl was right. It was hard to remember the extent of the charges. They had only seen Ibiki once, but both were certain they would never want to see him again, not while he was on duty. Interrogation, they could imagine, was quite the ordeal under Morino Ibiki. Slowly, the pink-haired kunoichi started to massage her friend's shoulders. While Hinata leaned backward, the stress easing throughout her body, there was little relief from what would be ahead.

Sakura's hands were gone from her shoulders instantly, the sound of scratch marks made on the crude questionnaire. "W-what?" Hinata blurted out. "What are you putting down? We haven't spoken yet!"

"Yes you have," an old man's voice grunted. Hinata froze, as did Sakura, who stood rigid, staring like wounded prey into the eyes of Morino Ibiki. "Seeing your crush back from the dead, attacking a squad of ANBU, holding your own for two minutes, no less... You've had one hell of a day."

"What... what are you going to do?" Sakura cringed, taking a step closer towards Hinata.

Ibiki's smirk changed to a frown. "You, Medical Nin... you aren't welcome here during an interrogation." He waited for the girl to respond, but she stood perfectly still, refusing to leave. "You were given an order, Genin," he hissed. "Wait a minute... Aren't you..?" The interrogator's mind flipped through the pages of memory, recalling the two times they had met before. There was the chuunin exams, and the return of his younger brother. It amused him, he thought, to see the teammate of that annoying brat in the infirmary treating the girl who had feelings for him. "This should prove quite a challenge," he smiled wickedly.

"C-challenge?" Sakura whimpered. Hinata froze, her goggled eyes trying to dodge the man's gaze.

"This report," he held up a thick binder filled with pages. "It shows some rather... interesting habits you have picked up in the last few months, Hyuuga Hinata. Severe visual problems, heightened stress, and mourning at a grave for months on end... one that no other villager visits."

She couldn't bare to listen to the remainder of the report. Closing her mind to the questions, Hinata simply closed her eyes, trying to sleep through the interrogation. Sakura, however, remained awake as the bucket of water was brought in by two genin. "No!" Sakura cried out for the Hyuuga heiress. "Please! This isn't necessary!"

"I disagree," Ibiki frowned, closing the door to the secured room.

•••••••••••••

"Naruto?" Sakura asked. The genin stirred, eyes opening stiffly. He was exhausted, and couldn't remember feeling so horrible before in his life. There was something inherently wrong about this. In all of his life, regardless of the physical injuries, his recovery was rapid and never marked with such symptoms. Everything still throbbed, including the seal. "Naruto, are you awake?"

Haruno was worried, the rider realized. That was something else that was wrong. Granted, he hadn't expected everything to be fantastic the minute he just waltzed in the the village, and said "Hey, I'm not dead!", but he had expected things to be more or less consistent. That, however, did not seem to be the case. Things, he surmised, had become far worse. "Yeah?" he asked.

The faint smile on the girl was backed with a quivering brow and tearing eyes. "Good... I'm glad you're alright," the medical nin answered. "Naruto… Hinata, she's…" The instant the girl's name slipped past her lips, she noticed the reaction. The boy's eyes widened, pupils dilated, and head turned for both ears to receive the maximum volume of her voice. Sakura cringed, the effect of what she was about to say now known to be devastating. "Hinata… _changed_ while you were away."

Uzumaki frowned. "Changed?" This couldn't be good, the boy realized.

"She… she's in the…ahem…psychiatric division of the hospital." Haruno made sure to rapidly mumble that last phrase of the sentence. For a moment, her strategy worked, and the boy had to take a moment to process what she said. His eyes twitched side to side as he could be seen to mentally replay the message, scanning for coherent words. Immediately after the message was processed, the reaction was not what she had suspected, not from Naruto.

Uzumaki rose to a sitting position, placing his left hand to his stomach. The burning sensation returned, and looking down, he noticed a small trickle of blood soak through the blue-green medical gown. "N-Naruto!" Sakura yelped, gripping the boy's shoulders. "Stop it! You'll tear out all your stitches!"

"Too... late," he grunted, feeling the thread cut through his skin, protruding. Turning slowly from side to side, the rider spotted what he was looking for. The scalpel had a sterile, sharp edge, perfect for trimming away the loose stitches. "Hand me some tape, some gauze, and let's get moving."

"We…can't," Sakura shuddered. "They are interrogating her…"

Naruto's head spun around, his eyes wide open. "Who?" he demanded. "Who is interrogating her?" Sakura shrank back. She was still unsure of the new strength training Tsunade had put her through. In fact, she was still in the initial conditioning stages, but still strong enough to easily defeat the blonde genin. Perhaps, however, it was something else which stopped her from using her strength. She reconsidered, however, when she felt the left hand clench her throat, pulling her close to the foul snarl. "I asked you a question, Shinobi. _Who_ is interrogating Hinata?"

"N-Naruto!" Sakura yelped. She started to pry at his fingers, loosening them to a degree, but not enough to break his hold. "Please! You- You're hurting me!" Her pleas went unanswered. "It's Ibiki!" she finally croaked out. "Morino Ibiki is-"

Uzumaki let the half-strangled girl drop to the floor, his hand released. His breathing became faster, more labored as his wounds turned cold. Things, he realized, had gone very wrong since the last time he had been here. Those were the thoughts, he would later recall, when the alarms sounded. Sakura's face seemed to taper into a distortion of fright, her throat expanding and contracting with her lungs, choking and coughing on the rush of fresh air. He noticed a certain feeling, now, a stabbing pain not unlike the wounds which had reopened. It took a moment to process this new sensation. No, he realized, it was an old, very familiar sensation. It was simply one he hadn't experienced in months.

It was guilt.

Naruto glared up at the ceiling. His eyes had finally adjusted to the light as his breathing slowed. The sounds of screams, and the pulsating klaxon alarm startled him from the enemy in front of him. They were here, and had probably infiltrated the village over the last few weeks. That was their typical pattern, after all. They would only spend a few weeks familiarizing themselves with the next village to conquer, and then, once they had mastered the roles they would play under the crude clones they would make, would assassinate the ones they would replace. Within the next couple of hours would come the bloodbath, and another few days, a garrison would be established, once again redefining the Wind Country's borders.

But this was Fire Country, and the Hidden Leaf Village. These were not part of Wind Country, and did not fall under the politics that was this power struggle. HIs home was merely a land of observers, who, while they did have a stake in the changing of the guard, would not directly act unless their allies were threatened.

"Pre-emptive strike," Uzumaki grumbled, rolling off the gurney, tumbling to the floor. The intravenous needles twisted and jerked out of his arm, causing the genin to wince, gripping the open wound. Tearing at his medical gown, the rider patched the open gashes and punctures, his feet shuffling slowly forward. Everything in his body hurt, but he had to keep moving. War, especially the missions shinobi undertook, were ones of mobility. It had only been in the last two months on his journey home that he had learned that. He could not understand why he could not have grasped such an easy concept before.

Those who held their ground would die, while those who had no fixed positions, who advanced with strength and cunning, would always conquer the squatters.

"What?" Sakura looked back and forth around the shuddering walls of the compound. Explosions were weakening the tower's upper levels, and stresses were put on frame members that were never meant to handle the additional load. "Those came from-" She then noticed Naruto, on his feet, shuffling for the door. "You idiot!" she screamed. "What are you doing? You're in no shape to leave!"

His hand reached out once again, flinging and pinning the girl in a hold by her left wrist. Strength training or no, Uzumaki had leverage on his side. "_Where_ is the psychiatric division?" he hissed. Haruno froze, requiring the rider to twist the wrist firmly, watching his former comrade shrink towards the floor.

"What... what are you going to do?" she cringed.

"You are going to report to Kakashi-sensei, and gather the other teams together. Get them to surround the building, let _no one_ out, do you understand?" He paused, hoping the girl would understand. "They're genjutsu users, right? I don't care if it's me, Hinata, or even the Hokage herself. Do not let _anyone_ out of the building without a fully-armed escort of ANBU, got it?"

Sakura nodded. When had she become the weaker one in the team? Here she was, eight months after the last of Team Seven had been lost, and she ha to take on the burden of training alone. She was more an outcast in the village than this blonde genin was when he left. Being known as the only survivor of a fallen genin team was not something so easy to shake off, not in a shinobi village. "And you?" she asked.

The screams were coming from the Hokage's head office, meaning he would head in the opposite direction. Fighting for the Hokage was one thing, but attacking head on, out-manned and out-gunned was something else. He was no longer a ninjutsu user. He couldn't be, not in his condition. He had to think, instead, like a bandit. That was, after all, what he had been for quite some time. The difference between mercenary and bandit was a very slim one. Mercenaries were simply bandits with a steady income and a reputation of professionalism.

"I am going that way," he answered, pointing towards the psychiatric division. "Where is my gear?"

Haruno shook her head. "You aren't going to break in there and start attacking Ibiki!" she snapped. This was ridiculous. Naruto was acting just like Hinata was. She stopped, thinking back. There was something out of place with all of this, this whole situation which had spiraled out of control. It was as if Hinata and Naruto were meant to suffer. No, she tried to argue. Hinata started losing it not too long after Naruto "died", and Naruto, well, she had no idea what had caused him to lose it. She should have been paying more attention to her partner, however, as the doors to the room started to creak open.

The doors to the corridors outside of the intensive care wing were solid oak, and under normal conditions would be a minor inconvenience. Today, however, they were a burden greater than any he had experienced before. His fleet slipped out from underneath him in a warm fluid. Looking down after several attempts to regain traction, the rider noticed the pool of blood, his blood, which he had tracked from the gurney to the doorway.

He would have to find another solution.

•••••••••••••

Morino Ibiki had been blessed with excellent hearing from birth. Unlike other male shinobi who thrilled at the use of explosive tags, Ibiki treated his senses just as kindly as the kunai he had been taught by his father to regularly maintain. His senses, much like his weapons, were tools which required the utmost care. To sacrifice them with abuse was a betrayal not just of his own battle prowess, but of the oath he had taken to serve the village.

That was why he could hear the explosions and the blaring alarms throughout the Hokage Tower, regardless of how Hinata's muffled screams gurgled up from the water's surface.

It had been a lengthy "discussion", usually consisting of thirty seconds of questioning, followed by two minutes of shoving the girl's head into a trough of ice-cold water. The jounin had to admit, she was sticking to her story quite well. After two hours of interrogation, she still had not changed one fact, not one detail. This had, however, raised the stakes. Holding out this long could theoretically mean she was telling the truth, that she was truly Hyuuga Hinata. Of course, if that was the case, her sudden shifts in hehavior indicated a whole new series of problems.

Shinobi were trained since childhood to limit their emotional influence on the mission. It was ironic, Morino thought, how their job description conflicted with a social structure. Shinobi, he surmised, were not meant to function in groups greater than small tactical teams, and could not effectively live outside of their own clans. To socialize meant to lose the connection with the job, and focus more intently on a civilian lifestyle. That, he believed, was the problem he faced now. Hyuuga Hinata was a civilian in shinobi clothing.

He had encountered several people like her in the past, those who could not handle the alternative lifestyle that was expected of a hired assasin. There were only two options for such people. They could either be reeducated, or they could be eliminated. These options depended on several factors, but in the end, there was no third option.

The explosions sounded again. In an instant, the defeated Hyuuga felt the pressure gone from the nape of her neck, no longer suspended like a wounded meal from a predator's jaws. Her body tumbled deeper into the trough, before her body rolled sideways, knocking the container over, spilling both her and the fluid out onto the floor. Her will to live, she concluded, was greater than the exhaustion of the two hours the both of them had played this game. Still, she was restrained in the straight-jacket, and incapable of escape. How much longer, she considered, would this game continue?

"Consider this a temporary reprieve," Ibiki croaked in a half-whisper, half groan. While appreciative of the quiet, he could not master his voice in such a low volume. Hyuuga gasped and coughed, struggling for air, but registered every word. There was something so quiet about the water, about drowning. The thrashing was loud, of course, but the very presence of the water seemed to soak away all sound. It was a perception of her own, and not a physical property of the water, she realized, but still, her thoughts of water up to that point always connected with the perception of peaceful silence.

Now, outside of the shallow trough, she was returned to the world of noise, and loud noises in particular. The bang of exploding tags, the echo of their shock waves, and the groan of steel-reinforced concrete scraped at her eardrums, causing her to wince. Why? Why did she have to endure the noise?

Her lungs burned as air once again returned. Why did she have to endure pain? The drowning she experienced was terrifying, yes, and painful, but it was the teasing, she thought, that was the most cruel. Being pulled back from the brink of death just caused her to endure the torture longer. That, she realized, was the true method of torture. It was not the threat of physical impairment or death that made people talk. Rather, it was the indecisiveness, the lack of a solid conclusion. Without a definitive climax, pain would continue, the universal burning of nerve impulses and the exhaustion of will growing with each repetition.

"Reprieve?' she whispered. How was drawing out the conclusion a reprieve?

Morino was just at the door when the conclusion did come.

•••••••••••••

The explosion was concentrated, thanks to the carbon steel tip of the crossbow bolt. The aim was perfect, pinning the attached tag with the bolt in-between the seam formed by the door and door jamb. The confined space was what maximized such a minimal anti-personnel tag into a door-breaching one. Thankfully, the choice in underpowered tag also reduced the shock wave, reducing injury to those just beyond the door.

Morino hit the floor first, his ribcage shattering as the brunt of the debris threw him backward. The two genin which accompanied him were lucky, taking the few splinters which reached them to the arms and face. Ibiki's hearing was compromised for a moment, but registered the screams as the ringing stopped. Looking back, the genin were lying on their backs, scrambling to pull out the wood fragments jammed deeply into their skin.

"Hinata?" Uzumaki shouted. The cloud of smoke parted, revealing a limping, bleeding genin in the blue-green medical gown, one crossbow in his left hand, the other strapped to his back, the remaining bolts tied with medical tape to his right leg. The rider waved the cloud of smoke and dust from his face, his blurry vision only capable of recognizing amorphous shapes. The explosion, he considered, was the last thing his head could take after receiving a concussion.

"N-Naruto?" the blue-haired genin asked, stumbling to her feet. The oxygen deprivation made her steps uneasy, as did her poor eyesight. She needed her goggles again, but who had them? After a few moments, she remembered Ibiki pocketing them. Two more steps, and she fell on her left side, the impact with the floor not as harsh as she remembered. Her head moved sluggishly upwards, the blur that was the rider still unmistakable from any other. There was a certain way Uzumaki Naruto walked, and during her time at the academy, she had memorized his gait to the last detail. "Nar-uto…" she whimpered, vision fading. The last thing she could remember was the rigid wooden bracing on his right arm grazing her head as he checked for shrapnel.

Ibiki glared at the missing nin, his left hand reaching out, kunai in hand. "You…bastard!" he hissed. "What are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing?" the rider hissed. "What are you doing to Hinata?" Uzumaki rolled the girl onto her back, starting to tear at the restraints with a kunai. The blade was dulled, rusted, and had a different tooling than most shinobi weapons. the blade was not symmetrical, but rather, curved upward on one side, and was finished with a d-clip point. The handle was much the same, but it was this blade, this deviation from shinobi practices, which stuck with Ibiki as he observed the boy. It seemed to change his role, from shinobi, to something else.

Uzumaki Naruto searched the man's trenchcoat, along with his tactical vest. There, in the left breast pocket of the vest, he found what he was looking for. The green goggles with yellow lenses, the object which did not fit the others, would give him insight into the situation. "What are these?"

"Corrective lenses," Morino answered simply. Lying about such poor intelligence was pointless now. There was no tactical advantage to revealing the medical condition of a traitor. "They belong to _her_."

"Her?" Naruto exclaimed. he delivered a swift kick to the man's chest. Morino squawked, his gurgling scream changing to a cough as he rolled onto his back. "She's a Hyuuga! Why would she need these?"

Somene, Ibiki thought, had seemed to learn a great deal since he had been declared dead. This couldn't be the same boy, he realized. But that could not be the case, either. Who would copy someone so unpopular? The fact he was presumed dead was also another point left up for debate. Taking on the forms of missing nin was not an effective means for sneaking into an enemy's village. Taking into account the brazen attitude, and this _had_ to be the real McCoy. Ibiki started to laugh. "So, it is you," he chuckled, wincing as his ribs protested.

This, however, was not the answer Uzumaki wanted to hear. Another swift kick to the ribs, and Morino felt something inside his chest jab at his lungs. The laughter died instantly, his breathing slow and deliberate as he went stern. "The Hyuuga," Ibiki coughed. "She's blind as a bat… The doctors say she can't even use her Byakugan anymore."

The rider knelt onto the man's chest, his knees digging in, one placed into the shattered ribcage and the other into the man's throat. Ibiki struggled for breath, wondering why he had never tried such a technique before in his years of expertise. When, he thought, did this boy become so skilled at manipulating the human body? "Now," Uzumaki hissed. "You are going to tell me _everything_. What is she doing here?"

"She attacked our forces," Ibiki explained. "You were there! You should have seen her, what she did!" The rider thought back, the memories of his vision going dark after he saw the cloaked figure in the town square just inside of the gate. But he could remember her frantic running, her screams, and the sound of unarmed combat. "Loyalty is not something we take lightly in Konoha," the jounin continued. "You, of all people, should realize that." That, Ibiki thought, was the dumbest thing he could say at that moment. His correction was justified, as he found another bolt, explosive tag removed, pointed directly at his head. Somehow, the crossbow did not suit this boy.

"Yeah," the rider answered, pulling the trigger. The arrow dug deep into the man's right shoulder, the barbs of the point cutting into the flesh. Ibiki yelped, his left shoulder lurching upward, his mind urging his body to try and let it slip completely through. If he could just sit up, he thought, he could get past the bolt, and make a move on the genin. That was, of course, before he felt the second bolt dig into his right shoulder. "I won't let you die," Uzumaki answered calmly.

"W-what?" Morino coughed, his eyes wide.

"I said I won't let you die," the boy repeated, rising unsteadily to his feet. "I intend for you to be alive when we continue our little conversation." Throwing the Hyuuga heiress over his shoulder, the rider loaded another bolt into the crossbow, holding it out with his right hand.

Outside of the solid walls of the chamber, Haruno Sakura shivered, clasping her hand over her mouth to muffle a shriek. She truly wished, more intensely than anything she had wished for in her life, that she had not followed her former teammate.

•••••••••••••

Shikamaru, not even a year into his role as a chuunin, found himself in command of his peers. Neji, he theorized, was far more suitable to this role. The enemy was trained in genjutsu, and with his eyes, he could better lead them, knowing which were real, and which were illusions. Of course, Neji had yet to achieve the chuunin rank. Perhaps, the lazy genius realized, withholding the exams wasn't such a bright idea. Of course, with Iruka there as well, he was only a second in command. Why their jounin instructors had to be redeployed to the blockade within the last few weeks was an obvious answer, but one that again led him to question the validity of standard operating procedure.

Only six of the Rookie Nine, the newly appointed jounin Iruka, and Team Ten were at the tower. The other forces had relocated to the perimeter wall, immediately preparing for the first wave of an attack which would not come. "We need reinforcements," Shikamaru lamented, rubbing his forehead in frustration. It was going to be a troublesome battle.

"No time," Iruka explained. "The rest have to brace for the eventual attack by the enemy's front line troops. We are left to mop up the vanguard." In the falling debris of the upper levels, Iruka noticed a shadow. He considered it to be nothing more than a trick of the eye, but as it grew, it took on a familiar identity. "Sakura?" he asked.

The girl was coughing, sprinting out of the building. "Iruka-sensei!" she was screaming. "It's the Hokage! She's under attack!" The figure continued to run, but something, the jounin realized, was not right. Sakura, in all the years he had known her, was quite light on her feet. Now, however, she was struggling to hold her heavy-treaded run over open ground, something which would not be so difficult for the medical nin.

"Hold it!" Iruka shouted. His hands were immediately on a pair of kunai. Shikamaru blinked, looking at his leader, then back to the approaching girl. The details were all wrong, he realized.

"Iruka-sensei!" Ino growled. "What… what's wrong?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "It's not Sakura," he breathed. The jounin glanced at his former student, the perspiration starting to slow down the man's forehead. The shaking in his hands eased, the grip on the kunai firming. "We know you are one of the intruders!" Shikamaru bellowed. "Now, where is the Hokage?"

Sakura stopped, her lips turned up in a grin. Neji was the first to sense it, then Iruka. The person before them was clear as day, thanks to the Byakugan, but something was still off. "Nothing..." Neji breathed, causing Ten Ten and Rock Lee to study their teammate. "I can't sense anything at all from him…not even a killing intent-" The pride of the Branch Family froze. "Get back!" Hyuuga shouted.

The smile faded, Sakura's face suddenly the vision of fright, her face and eyes darting down to her midsection. The crossbow bolt pierced cleanly through the abdomen, paper fragments protruding from the wound. She could smell the initial fuse burn, sulphur reaching her nostrils. There was not even enough time to speak one last word, her mouth opening just as the charge detonated.

Ten Ten and Neji both turned away, but Ino could only look on, seeing the trio which stood behind the smoldering flesh. Two were female, their figures and clothing obvious against the clashing color of the licking flames, still consuming the fleshy fuel. It took a moment for everyone to process the pink-haired girl walking out from behind herself was, in fact, the real Haruno Sakura. Next was Hyuuga Hinata, who was slumped unconscious over both the medical nin's and someone else's shoulders. For some reason, one that he knew he did not want to know, the shy, cautious kunoichi wore a white canvas jacket, straps which served as restraints severed from the sleeves.

The third person was the real puzzler. The bloodstained medical gown covered a pair of hastily thrown on sweatpants. The forehead and right cheek were bandaged, stained crimson just like the gown, which the wearer tore away with his left arm. The right, Iruka noticed, hung limp at his side, a single crossbow in his hand. "N-Naruto?" the jounin asked. The others gasped, then studied the forms more closely as they approached.

"The Hokage is probably dead," the rider breathed calmly, watching Iruka flinch. "We need to regroup with the remaining jounin, and retake the tower." The straps to the straight-jacket were almost finished, only two left along the small of the girl's back. A quick cut with the blade facing outward, and the modified kunai finished the job, allowing the boy to pull the Hyuuga free. "We will start on the lower floors, and secure the building as we move upwards."

"Are you insane?" Kiba snapped. "We have to save the Hokage!"

"We cannot sacrifice our position," Uzumaki answered. "If we give up our advantage now, we cannot win."

"And what position is that?" Neji asked in distaste. He could see the resemblance of Naruto in this boy, but the character was completely different. The genin was the first to leap at a chance to save another villager, tossing caution to the wind, while this version, he considered, was unusually calm. Both, the Hyuuga considered, were extremes, much like his unconscious cousin.

"The enemy has passed us by, and is concentrating their attack on the upper levels of the tower. By securing the surrounding buildings and the lower floors, we cut off their escape routes. In the event the Hokage has survived, she will be used as a hostage, which will open up far more opportunities for us. For that reason, we will need the surrounding area secured."

"You're trying to steer the situation in your favor," Shino realized, grunting through the cloth barrier of his oversized jacket collar. "But what makes you think they won't have reinforcements on the way?"

"The majority of their forces are still fighting a guerrilla war in Wind Country," the rider wheezed, setting Hinata to a sitting position on the ground. He signaled for Sakura to come forward, and check her over for injuries."Their goal is control of Wind Country, and to do that, they have to discourage our alliance with the Sand. How would you do that? With brute force?"

"…No," Shikamaru answered, the thoughts falling together now like the final pieces of a puzzle. Such an engagement would be pointless, and result in fighting on two fronts, something a small province of Wind Country couldn't afford. Rather, simple covert missions to eliminate key political figures supporting the Sand, while the enemy's adversaries continuously pressured the blockade would cascade into dissatisfaction. The public, eventually leading to the key players in the council, would abandon the Sand to stop the war from spilling out onto Fire Country's soil. The quick fix would be utilized to treat the symptoms instead than correcting the cause.

"Challenging the border would be a fool's errand," Shikamaru explained. "They can be far more effective with a demonstration how they can reach out and touch us at any time. Meanwhile, our only option to penetrate Wind Country's defenses and reach them would be an S-rank mission. They can easily roam freely in the chaos, while we would have to swim upstream to the source."

"But they're genjutsu users!" Ten Ten whined. "How do we get to the Hokage through those illusions? Even the ANBU haven't been able to detect them!"

The group took a step back, the deceased genin walking up to the weapons specialist. He studied her for a moment, his eyes wide, tracing over her features quickly like an animal who cannot make out distinct shapes. It was then Iruka remembered the briefing Tsunade gave earlier. "Mercenary?" he whispered. "That's… no way! You couldn't be!"

The conscious five who made up the Rookie Nine and Team Ten shifted uncomfortably as Uzumaki the Butcher drew the tip of the loaded crossbow bolt over the girl's forehead protector. The sulphur-coated tip screeched as it cut a scratch into the spiral leaf symbol, the metallic noise piercing the group's ear drums. The sulphur of the explosive tag invigorated his senses, shaping a feral grin. "We kill them…_all_ of them!"

End of Chapter II

•••••••••••••

Coments/questions, please leave a review.

•••••••••••••


	3. Windstorm

I do not own the rights to "Naruto", nor any of the persons, places, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to the series, as well as a critique on it's existing plotline. Therefore, if requested by the owners and distributors of the "Naruto" anime or manga, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Chapter III:**

------------------

_"Challenging the border would be a fool's errand," Shikamaru explained. "They can be far more effective with a demonstration how they can reach out and touch us at any time. Meanwhile, our only option to penetrate Wind Country's defenses and reach them would be an S-rank mission. They can easily roam freely in the chaos, while we would have to swim upstream to the source."_

_"But they're genjutsu users!" Ten Ten whined. "How do we get to the Hokage through those illusions? Even the ANBU haven't been able to detect them!"_

_The group took a step back, the deceased genin walking up to the weapons specialist. He studied her for a moment, his eyes wide, tracing over her features quickly like an animal who cannot make out distinct shapes. It was then Iruka remembered the briefing Tsunade gave earlier. "Mercenary?" he whispered. "That's… no way! You couldn't be!"_

_The conscious five who made up the Rookie Nine and Team Ten shifted uncomfortably as Uzumaki the Butcher drew the tip of the loaded crossbow bolt over the girl's forehead protector. The sulphur-coated tip screeched as it cut a scratch into the spiral leaf symbol, the metallic noise piercing the group's ear drums. The sulphur of the explosive tag invigorated his senses, shaping a feral grin. "We kill them…all of them!"_

------------------

Tsunade closed her eyes, and gripped her left thigh in pain. Her breaths were sharp, taking in the scorching, smoke-filled air. The fire consumed her office furniture long ago, and now ate at the support beams, the walls, and the flooring. The Hokage coughed, rolling onto her right side. As she did so, the fractured segments of bone ground against each other, feeling as though the raw nerves were grinding up against coarse sandpaper.

The intruders were long gone, leaving her to burn alive in the building. This was something she could have normally avoided, had her enemies used normal tactics. But even she, the Fifth Hokage, could not penetrate passive genjutsu. She considered the steps needed to be taken to prevent the village from further attack, and already had a plan in mind. The problem was leaving the burning building, and to do that required walking.

Walking out required treating the compound fracture.

Biting into the handle of a splintered crossbow bolt, Tsunade braced herself for the next step in the procedure. If she didn't set it right, everything would be over. Her wound would be worse than before, and without the ability to so much as crawl, she would gladly burn to death rather than try to limp with a fractured leg this bad. Her hands gripped the flesh tightly, and forced the lower half out. She bit her tongue as the wooden bit fell out of her mouth, the scream slipping to a whimper, then retching, as she smacked her head into the floor, vomiting hard.

It was about then the pleasant, smoky flavor to the room turned foul, the horrid fumes scorching her lungs. Flopping to her back, the woman let out another whimper before her eyes closed, arms wrapping around her body protectively. She was so tired of fighting.

•••••••••••••

Neji scowled at Uzumaki the Butcher, then glanced back at Ten Ten. His teammate was frozen, eyes deadlocked at the predator before her. The others simply stood there, arms locked at their sides, unwilling to move. "What do you know about fighting them?" the Hyuuga genius barked. "We tried fighting, and if the Hokage herself is in danger, how would you be able to win?" The former Jinchuuriki snorted, as Neji just snarled back. "Look at you! Your body is broken, you can't even wield a kunai, and _you_ are telling _us_ to simply abandon the Hokage to fight our enemy head on?"

"You will not fight the enemy?" Uzumaki asked quietly, refusing to look away from Ten Ten.

"The Hokage is our first priority," Iruka protested. "Naruto, if you know something, tell us. We need to know everything about them."

"You need nothing!" the blonde genin snarled. "You want to know what will happen? The enemy will kill the Hokage, and use her image to form a clone. When you go in to rescue Tsunade-sama, they'll shut the gauntlet, and take you all down before you even have a chance to blink." He paused, finding his jaw clenched, his breathing growing faster, and his vision glazed. He was overexerting himself, getting angry over people who simply were not trained to understand. This was a world of chakra, after all, the mystical power seen as the end-all, be-all of being a ninja. "You have a strong hand and a kunai. What more do you need?" The mercenary started to limp towards the tower, retrieving the second crossbow from his back. "Sakura..."

"Y-yes, Naruto?" Haruno answered.

"You're the closest thing we have to a genjutsu specialist. If anyone, and I mean ANYONE comes out of that building, get three volunteers to hold them until you can check them out thoroughly."

Sakura nodded. There was a foul taste in her mouth, seeing this crude, vicious impostor bark orders. However, she had to admit, what her former teammate lacked in common sense, this new Naruto made up with a tactical knowledge that could only come from an in-depth experience with the enemy. The girl shuddered as she considered just what that experience consisted of. Six months of torture was not something she wanted to even imagine.

"Damnnit..." Shikamaru hissed. "Alright, Shino, Neji, Ino, you stay and help Sakura search any survivors who come out. Kiba, Lee, Ten Ten, Chouji, come with me." Iruka glanced at the genin as they began to fall out, then back at Shikamaru. "Shino, you know what to do, right?"

"Understood," Shino answered, the itching sensation of a female insect disturbing each member of the assault team.

Iruka studied each of the genin carefully, and the sting of regret in his gut was slowly dying. Each was in a position to best use their talents, and seemed to understand how their role impacted the others. He nodded to himself, thinking how things had changed so drastically since the last chuunin exam. The leaders were becoming more confident, the subordinates more skilled in their specialties, and overall, each of them could understand the big picture. "You coming, Sensei?" Shikamaru asked.

"Someone with rank has to stay behind when the ANBU catch up," the academy instructor answered. "And Shikamaru?"

"Yes?" the genius glanced back over his shoulder.

Iruka felt as though he was betraying an old friend, but he had to say something. "Watch him... don't let him out of your sight, got it?"

The student froze, his face twitching in surprise, then hate. Slowly, Shikamaru nodded. "Got it." He knew what Iruka was thinking, just as anyone in their right mind was thinking. Just because he looked like Naruto, didn't mean he was Naruto, not with their new enemy. But that raised a question. Why would an impostor come back behaving so differently? The enemy, who clearly managed to blend in seamlessly with shinobi from the village, would not come into town so out of place.

There was one other potential risk, but no one, not even he wanted to consider it.

The only time a missing nin genuinely comes home is of his own free will, and usually with an objective incompatible with the village. Incompatible, of course, is often an understatement. However, there have been those rare occasions, when the best method of reconnaissance or sabotage within critical areas of a hidden village can only be done by someone who can pass all the ANBU patrols. When clones can't do it, genjutsu can't do it, and disguises can't do it, the only option is to send the genuine article in to do the job.

That is, after several months of mental conditioning, which Naruto could have easily undergone. It had been nearly a year, the chuunin thought. There was no way to know for certain, especially with the odd behavior, itself typically a sign of altered memories. And this Naruto, he considered, had some serious behavioral differences.

The entrance to the Hokage Tower never before seemed so unwelcoming.

•••••••••••••

Naruto threw his back against the outer wall of the tower, trying to minimize his profile out of the upper levels' lines of sight. "Okay," he whispered. "We need two volunteers for recon." Uzumaki wasn't surprised when Lee raised his hand in an exaggerated pose. Kiba hesitantly agreed next, taking a step towards the taijutsu user. "Okay," the rider nodded. "Your objective is to scale the wall, and give us an idea of the obstacles in the upper levels."

"But... didn't you say we were going to penetrate the tower level by level?" Ten Ten asked. "If we could just go straight up to the office-"

Shikamaru shook his head. "You want to attack from two directions?"

Uzumaki nodded. "Classic pincer maneuver; we'll close off all their escape routes at once, so we can easily sort out the hostages from the intruders. We also need to know the condition of the Hokage before we make a move. If she's dead, we'll know anyone who looks like her is an enemy. If she's alive, since you are so fond of her... we can attempt a rescue directly after closing off their escape routes. Lee, you have any rope?"

Rock Lee shook his head, but then gave off his blinding grin, retrieving two kunai. Shikamaru was about to ask what exactly he intended to do, but the green-clad genin was already off. The first kunai drove deep into the tower wall, the shinobi lifting his body up with his right arm. Next, the left hand drove the other kunai incrementally higher and to the left of the prior. It wasn't long before the exhaustive approach led Lee nearly halfway up the tower with energy to spare. Naruto reminded himself just how much this boy's strength compensated for chakra.

"Son of a b-" Kiba sighed, before performing the seals, and directing the chakra to his feet and hands. It was more challenging, he found, than leaping through the trees of the forest. Rather than a parabolic trajectory assisted by gravity, this was a sheer vertical approach, and the size of the tower ruled out the advantage of an initial momentum. No, he realized. The only approach was slow and steady. Perhaps, he considered, this was the advantage. The objective was stealth, and running up the side of a building isn't the most inconspicuous of approaches.

Shikamaru just sighed, rubbing his forehead and pinching the bridge of his nose. Lee's green spandex was a stark contrast to the maroon paint of the tower's masonry. Kiba was not much better, but at least his dull gray attire was closer to the appropriate urban camouflage look. Glancing back at the remainder of his team, Ten Ten, Chouji, and Naruto, the chuunin cringed. None of them were especially suited for close quarters battle. That, he considered, was an understatement. Each of them specialized in open terrain combat, as did most of the Rookie Nine. In the recesses of his mind, the chuunin promised himself if he came out of this alive, he would strictly drill the academy students in room clearing techniques and combatives meant for confined spaces.

"Okay, Naruto," the chuunin breathed, his body against the wall opposite of the blonde, the main entrance separating the two. "How do we fight these guys? Their genjutsu hides killing intent, and their weapons cannot be perceived by us except visually. What other means are at our disposal?"

"We take down anyone that moves," Uzumaki hissed.

"_THAT_ is your plan?" Ten Ten barked. "We're putting our lives on the line because you think we can just out-kill our enemies before they wipe us out?"

Uzumaki the Butcher let his feral grin pass through his defenses. "I don't _think_ I can out-kill them. I KNOW I can out-kill them!" Ten Ten glared skeptically. "This is a war of attrition, after all. But no, it's not that simple." The grin grew wider. "It will be far more fun."

"Fun?" Chouji asked, his eyebrows raising suspiciously. Shikamaru let a scowl cross his face. This didn't sound good at all. Before they could receive an answer, however, Naruto was already rushing into the tower. "Naruto, stop!" Chouji barked, before following the boy into the thick of the ambush. Shikamaru muttered something incoherent under his breath as he jogged behind, leaving the weapon specialist exposed.

Ten Ten hissed, glancing up at Kiba and Lee. Even with the advantage of chakra control, her teammate was much further ahead, already awaiting the signal to advance. He seemed like a vigilant eagle, squatting on his perch of the two kunai, studying the Konoha horizon. The girl slumped her shoulders, and waving at the boy, gestured to her right ear. Lee nodded, and clicked on the tactical radio, giving a thumbs-up.

Ten Ten couldn't help but smile back. He really did remind her of their sensei, and since his physical therapy sessions, was making great progress at enhancing both his taijutsu and tactical knowledge. She had to admit, he was moving beyond the headstrong, unthinking fighter she knew before. Instead, he was learning cunning, deceit, and the advantages of terrain.

Now only if he could blend into the bloody building, she thought, before chasing after her comrades.

•••••••••••••

Uzumaki felt at home, for more than one reason. The Hokage Tower did bring back memories, but more importantly, he was in his element. For two months after his escape, he learned through trial and error how to maneuver, to creep, and disappear in the shadows of Wind Country's varying terrain. More importantly, he had fought in the ruined urban areas of the fallen border towns many times. In every sense of the word, he was home.

The others, he thought, would never understand. It would take too long to explain. There was a plan to their movements, but it relied heavily on pauses between long, drawn-out stalks, and split-second kills. He was concerned, however, at his approach. Without his chakra, he would be relying solely on taijutsu and his latest weapon training. He didn't even _know_ how to properly use the crossbow, the former genin reminded himself. He simply learned to do what the peasants did: point and shoot. He considered the advantages to proper training, and wondered if there would be time before the chuunin exam to squeeze in some trigger time. At that moment, though, another thought came to mind.

Did Konoha even train its shinobi in projectile weapons?

The sound ahead of them caused all four of the assault team to stop, Uzumaki waving with his hand, palm facing back, arm outstretched to his side. Chouji had little space to hide, but managed to tuck himself within the recessed corridor next to a janitorial closet. Shikamaru and Ten Ten both followed Chouji's example, spaced out evenly along the diagonal corridors splitting off from the main hall. "Naruto!" the chuunin hissed. "Get out of the hall!"

The team could hear the footsteps approaching. There were two, maybe three people marching, dragging something behind them. The rider glanced left, right, down, and then up. That was where he found his answer, with a small crack in the open ceiling panels above. "Naruto!" Ten Ten whispered.

The two which dragged the body of a nameless ANBU were dressed in unusual coveralls, shades of green, gray, beige, and brown mixed in diagonal stripes. They wore full boots instead of the open-toed patrol sandals most shinobi wore. Finally, they packed a crossbow each, followed by a straight-bladed short sword worn on the left hip in a sheath. Both men were relatively the same height, build, and had a similar crew-cut. These, the young Nara considered, were not typical bandits.

Each of the assault team froze, waiting for the soldiers to pass by their respective hideouts along the hallway. However, the two men came to a halt, looking left and right as they let the corpse thrown over their shoulders fall to the ground. Something, they surmised, was not quite right. They could sense hesitation in the air coming from a couple people, perhaps a squad. It was the man to Shikamaru's left that first stared at the main door to the hallway. Had they left it open? Shikamaru looked back nervously, noting the burnt edges, and remembering how the clone of Sakura died. "Oh crap..." the chuunin hissed.

Shikamaru didn't have all of the facts, but his strategy had to work. The missing pieces, he would deduct as he went along, just as he had always done. He formed the seals quietly, the Kage Mane seemingly the right choice. Of course, nothing went according to plan.

The second man glanced down at the floor with an odd smirk, and leapt back, followed by the first man. They had cleared a distance of 10 meters in a few seconds. They were out of range of his shadow, Shikamaru thought. Furthermore, the harsh fluorescent lighting from above gave away his extended shadow. This assumption was confirmed as the two men let their first volley of crossbow bolts loose. Each impacted the corridor's walls, the first only centimeters from the edge of the chuunin's hiding spot.

Shikamaru had little time to sprint down the hall as the first two bolts detonated, their explosive tags sending the heated air of the shockwave out to a six meter radius. He felt his feet give way underneath him, slipping as the rush of heated air knocked him to the floor. Ten Ten was on her feet in an instant, unleashing her scroll. However, before she could grasp the first of her kunai, another arrow was chambered, and flying directly towards her.

The next explosion knocked the girl from Team Ten to the ground, her top and traditional pants catching fire from the burning debris. She quickly ducked back to her place by the janitorial closet, patting at the flames to put them out. She shook her head, wondering why her moves were so obvious. Then she remembered, just as was mentioned in the briefing from Iruka-sensei. These soldiers could mask their killing intent, meaning while she was sending clear signals to them, she was blind to what they were intending from the start.

It infuriated her. She was supposed to be a weapons specialist, trained in the most effective forms of melee combat. It was a simple matter of reading her opponent's eyes and body language to determine what they were doing. As she glanced over at Shikamaru, then at Chouji, it dawned on her. The problem wasn't their techniques. They were flawless. The problem lay in their killing intent.

As long as the soldiers were capable of reading them, and they were incapable of reading the soldiers, it would always be a one-sided battle.

"Where is Naruto?" Shikamaru groaned in anger. The rider had disappeared on them, abandoning them to fight the enemy alone. Studying the confined hallway again, it was obvious their movements were restricted. On the opposite side, the enemy found it as easy as shooting fish in a barrel, which, quite literally, the cooridor was once their exit was cut-off.

As if on cue, two other men encircled them from behind, holding up two full-size shields. The dark gray barriers were as tall as an average man, and nearly a meter in width. Pressed together, the two men from behind started their march forward, as the two from the front marched in-step to collide in the center of the hallway. Nara realized any strike they made would have to be towards both the front and rear advancing troops, but to penetrate the thick shields, they would have to use explosive tags. Unless the situation changed, he would have to try using _that_ technique.

The two soldiers from the front lurched forward, just as a mass of blue-green gown, crimson-stained bandages, and blonde hair emerged from the shattered ceiling tiles above, hanging inverted by his calves. Only a split-second was given to the victim to see the one-sided blade cut across his throat, his neck pushed forward into the steel by a forceful hand. The man's body spurted blood for a moment, then toppled down as he gurgled from the new hole in his throat.

"What the he-" the soldier to the chuunin's right cried. He was standing right beside the first victim, a comrade of his since the beginning of the war. How this child, he thought, could eliminate his friend without a sound or sense of killing intent was disturbing at the least. His right hand came up in an outward defense, hand grasping the hilt of the short sword, when his body was redirected, arms yanked further out of reach. The boy had a clean shot now, the knife driving through his ribcage, and cutting up through bone to his right collar.

The soldiers from behind started shouting obscenities, drawing their short swords as they advanced. But Shikamaru had them under control. A few seals and a crouching stance later, both men were frozen in place. "Ten Ten," the chuunin said, his voice grunting under the effort of holding the technique. "When they lower their shields, take them down."

Ten Ten nodded, preparing her scroll as the chuunin brought his hands to his sides.

The men grimaced as the weapon specialist retrieved her scroll. Twirling the paper sheet in a spiral directed at the men, a shower of kunai and shuriken flew into them, cutting easily through their light fabric armor. As Shikamaru broke the technique, the two bodies tumbled to the floor, one forward, the other backward. Before another move was made, each of the shinobi heard a tearing noise from behind them. Turning, they noticed the rider kneeling over one of the soldier's bodies, pecking at the man's possessions like a scavenger.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Ten Ten gasped.

Uzumaki rose shakily to his feet, placing the new crossbow bolts in the improvised quiver on his thigh. The short swords were next, both mounted in their sheaths, each slung on the stolen belt. "Take whatever equipment you need. They've most likely captured the armory. We cannot afford to run out." As the former genin started to turn, he paused, glancing down at the enemy once again. The man was still breathing.

_"W-why?"_the soldier whispered, blood pooling at the back of his throat, causing him to cough from time to time.

Slumping back down into the floor, one of the short swords came out of its sheath. Placing the weapon against the man's genitals, Uzumaki scowled. "Where is Red Phoenix?"

"W-what?" the soldier grunted.

The rider did not wait for an apology. He simply started cutting, the screams echoing through the hall. Ten Ten felt her skin go pale, and looked away. Chouji suddenly wished he hadn't finished off the bag of chips from before. With all of the attacks he had learned, none of his fighting style, nor those of his teammates, left a mess like this. This wasn't fighting at all. It was simply torture. Ten Ten was of a similar impression, closing her eyes for a moment, and breathing in with her mouth to avoid smelling the mineral-rich fluids which stained the floor.

"Naruto!" Shikamaru barked. But the genin didn't listen. "NARUTO!" The sword rested, frozen in space as the rider's arm remained locked just above the soldier's groin. Uzumaki the Butcher's eyes rolled back like a shark, turning to face the chuunin. "Stop it!" Nara shouted. "Have you forgotten why we're here?"

"Why _you_ are here, you mean," Uzumaki growled.

"Na-Naruto?" Chouji coughed.

"Their blood... is it really that valuable?" the Jinchuuriki asked, planting his open left palm into a puddle of crimson. Bringing his fingertips to his face, he took in a slow, steady breath, inhaling the wondrous scent. He looked down at the fallen men, and glared. "I wonder if this is how you felt when you raped and killed all those little girls on the bordering villages." Uzumaki cocked his head to one side, then traced his bloodied fingers over his left cheek. "No, this blood has no value. It is tainted... unworthy... _impure_."

The man started to scream again, trying to form structured sentences. "Red... Phonenix..." he yelped. "He's not-here!" But Naruto went back to cutting, sections of flesh peeling away under the sharpened short sword. It was a burly, heavy weapon meant for hacking, but Uzumaki found it perfect for delicate, personal work. The man looked into the faded blue eyes, trying to plead for forgiveness, or even the chance to be left alone, hoping a comrade would save him. Life as a mutilated victim was still life, after all. That was when the man recognized the child. "It's... you're _that_ one!"

Then the blade was raised above the boy's head, coming down in a strong, swinging motion. The chopping of flesh and bone rang in Shikamaru's ears. He knew of a few academy students who were the first generation of their families to become shinobi. One of those children had parents who prepared large portions of raw meat in a local restaurant. However, this was not the same sound he heard coming from that kitchen.

"So... ugly..." Naruto snarled, delivering a final blow. The blade remained lodged in the man's skull, the upper portion rolling along the floor with the splinters of brain matter. The jaw hung open, and then the various odors surfaced from the digestive tract.

No one said anything for the longest time. Shikamaru and the others simply watched Uzumaki struggle to his feet, steadying himself against the wall with his hand, and brushing the blood off with his right. It was then Nara noticed the unusual glistening on the boy's upper torso. The red didn't suit him, Nara considered. It didn't suit the boy at all. "There are still rules to warfare, Naruto!" Chouji finally barked.

"Rules of war?" Naruto whispered, turning. "Are you to lecture me on the rules of war?" The rider shook his head. "Perhaps it is you which needs an education." With that, the mercenary drew the crossbow from his back, the loaded end pointing directly at Chouji. "Or perhaps your commander would like a lesson!" The weapon shifted sideways, panning to meet Shikamaru head on.

Shikamaru's eyebrows twitched. There was something in the blue eyes which stared back into his own, something he had only seen a few times before. The fiery, haphazard determination was gone now, replaced with this rare trait he had only observed in the most hardened and relentlessly deployed chuunin. The eyes were cloudy, dull, completely lacking in their former shine. Instead, the whites of the eyes seemed glazed, muddied with the haze of ethics. The irises which formerly seemed polished like stone now took on a jagged hue, still sharp, but allowing the cracks to show. Finally, the pupils themselves were no longer sharp points like the kunai, but deep, hollow pits that swallowed the boy's soul.

"N-no lesson is necessary!" Nara croaked, his hands frozen still. He turned nervously left and right, his subordinates locked in place. "W-well?" he barked. "We have the Hokage to protect, don't we? Get moving!"

Uzumaki answered in a dead-pan tone. "That's what I like about you, Shikamaru," he started. "You always have your priorities in order."

Nara clutched the kunai hidden behind his forearm, his eyes fixed on the fourth cervical vertebrae of the missing nin. "You have no idea," he muttered.

•••••••••••••

Lee studied his partner carefully. Kiba was panting, choking on what air he could intake as he frantically clung to the ledge underneath the Hokage's office window. Rock Lee simply knelt, his feet perfectly balanced on the two kunai buried to the hilt in the concrete wall. Compared to this genin who had properly developed chakra coils, he was surpassing the boy, all due to a crude yet effective approach to the same problem he faced. Perhaps, Lee thought, Naruto was right. There was no need for chakra when a simple, mechanical technique would easily compensate.

"Damnnit," Kiba grunted, his palms slipping along the surface of the concrete. His feet struggled to hold his weight, body pivoting backwards by his ankles. In a flash, Lee reached out, gripping his companion by his right jacket sleeve.

"Here, Kiba-san!" Lee barked as he drove another kunai into the wall, just to the left of his feet. Guided to the new handhold, Kiba wrapped his fingers around the handle of the weapon, dangling by his arm some forty meters above the ground. Six stories above the ground, Lee thought, and here he was, the one without chakra control having to support the person who should have no problem with walking up walls. He could already see his role in the mission changing to lead the recon assault. "Your sensei clearly lacks training with the fires of youth-"

"Can it, spandex boy!" Kiba hissed.

Lee was about to protest, when a rustling noise echoed in the office just within the concrete structure. The taijutsu user grappled the support beams of the balcony, latching himself to the timbers as he peered in, keeping his head low. There was a fire spreading through the office, and a limp human form lying helplessly beside the barricaded door. She wore a green robe over her low-cut top and blue pants. There was no mistaking their village leader.

"What do you see?" Kiba hoarsely breathed, his right palm growing sweaty from exhaustion.

"It's Tsunade-sama!" Lee exclaimed. "She's trapped in the fire."

"Fire?" the slipping genin asked.

"We don't have time to wait for the others," Rock Lee explained, justifying himself as he leapt off the rungs of the kunai into the office window. He could hear the boards of the small balcony groan under his weight as he landed, his body tucked into a ball as he rolled into the burning building. The glass door was still shut tightly , the smoke beginning to billow, clouding the entrance in a thick, black haze. There was no time to think, no time to consider the traps set, or how he was going to do what was necessary. There was simply a flash of green, the sound of shattering glass, and a loud, drawn out scream.

Then, there was silence.

The feral genin struggled to listen, his left hand coming up to help support his weight on the single kunai. The emerging smoke, the floating embers, and the thumps of a person with a heavy tread above were all that could clue him in to the situation. He was stuck there, dangling by his arms, simply waiting. There was nothing so infuriating, so exhausting, or so humiliating.

That was when the fire spread to the balcony, and began to eat at the load-bearing beams directly above his head.

•••••••••••••

Tsunade did not perceive much, not until the hard, jarring impact of the ground into her back rang through her aging joints. She gasped, trying to recapture the wind which had just been knocked out of her, finally taking in a gulp of air several seconds after. Her eyes creaked open, her blurry vision glistening into a clear field of view moments later. As she recognized a rather darkened and charred Kiba, her left leg started to throb again. "Hokage-sama!" Kiba coughed, lumbering on all fours, trying to clear the dizziness from his brain. "Are you okay?"

A loud thumping sounded from within the earth. It was something she couldn't place at first. Then the silhouette of her apprentice loomed over her, checking over the two victims of the balcony collapse. "Tsunade-sama?" Sakura asked. The medical nin in training suddenly noticed the left thigh. Slowly stretching out the limp form of her master, Haruno took a deep breath. She had to treat the shock first, then worry about the injuries. "Where is Lee?" the pink-haired girl asked.

Kiba scowled, staring at the ground. That was the only answer any of them needed.

Sakura froze, then remembered her promise to Naruto. Signaling the others close, Sakura studied her presumed instructor and village leader cautiously. There was only so much she could determine, but a simple chakra pulse for good measure relieved everyone's hesitation. "It really is the Hokage?" Ino asked.

"Yes," Neji answered. "Her chakra coils match exactly with what we should expect.

"I concur," Shino muttered through his coat collar. "My kikai insects do not detect any unusual scents that suggest she has left the region."

Kiba continued to stare at the ground, tuning out the others. The green-clad nutcase had actually saved his life. More than that, the taijutsu user completed the mission single-handedly, sacrificing his life. Meanwhile, here he was, surviving with the Hokage only by accident. The fragments of burning, splintered wood still raining down on the surrounding courtyard hammered these thoughts firmly into the boy's mind. A genin with full use of his ninjutsu was put to shame by someone incapable of anything but taijutsu. The feeling of inadequacy tore at him more than the loss of his comrade.

"What about Lee's..?" Ino's words hung in the air a moment before she completed her thoughts. "...Body?"

Even Shino seemed to react to the news. No one spoke for the longest thirty seconds in their lives. That is, no one spoke until the Branch Hyuuga interrupted. "Leave him," the cold genin answered. "We have to move the Hokage to a safe location, and guard her until the ANBU arrive."

Sakura was the first to stare up at the boy, her green eyes now like sharpened emerald arrowheads, threatening to pierce the Hyuuga's cold soul. For the longest time, Sakura had managed not to feel this much rage. There were varying levels of anger, but nothing so intense as to make her mouth run dry. Only fear and sadness seemed to do that these days. But this time, it was an anger she had yet to experience.

"Sakura, don't!" Iruka yelped.

"You_ bastard!"_ the pink-haired girl screamed.

The Byakugan detected the strike long before it was due, allowing Neji to deflect the medical-nin's arm without any effort. Haruno found her arm pinned, twisted behind her back as the Hyuuga spoke softly into her ear. "Our orders are simple. We are to fight for the village and the Hokage. Unless you can revive the dead, I suggest-"

This time, the killing intent came from an unexpected source. Neji knew the feeling of those cold, silver eyes before. However, when they were targeted against his father, it was his uncle in the main branch which had owned this deadly glare. Cloaked behind the gold-tinted goggles, the meaning of the look was not diffused.

"You will honor your dead, Neji-kun," Hinata whispered into the heat of the smoky air. "Is that not expected of a comrade?" Her hands, Neji noticed, took on a seal technique he had never encountered before. "I suggest you let the medical-nin go, and allow us to complete the mission."

"That is the mission!" Neji barked back. "We save the Hokage, and we await the others to emerge from the-" His mind seemed to lock, his thinking suddenly rigid. The technique was beginning, and he could already notice the unusual pulses of chakra which struck at all of his Tenketsu points. His soul seemed to ring out like a tuning fork, the chakra stinging him with every beat of resonance.

"Hinata, I regret to say this," the jounin Iruka sighed. "However, you are still removed from duty. Until it is determined you are fit to-" His brain seemed to freeze, the cold of ice wrapping around his mind as he stared into the dark, smoky sky around him. When, he asked himself, did it become night? The ground around his feet seemed to turn to an ashen snow. No, he considered. The world was just as he remembered it, but his mind was interpreting the village around him as this distorted_thing_ which he believed was reality.

"Fit to what?" Hinata asked in a hushed whisper. However, for Iruka, the others were gone, and only the howl of a winter wind struck him head on. The wind turned to a harsh shriek, almost feminine as it asked the question again. "Fit to resume torture with Ibiki?" The eyes which observed him, originally black in their golden and green frame now began to bleed red.

Neji felt his blood turn cold. The Byaakugan filtered most of the illusion, but from the reactions of Iruka, he could tell it was bad. The jounin's chakra was echoing, mimicking his cousin's in a perfect harmonic. As Iruka kneeled mindlessly to the ground, the man's face stared dumbly at the girl, paralyzed in a mindless stupor. Before his cooled disgust of his cousin could impede his judgement, the Branch Hyuuga released Sakura, taking a mindful step back.

"H-Hinata?" Haruno stepped forward, eyes open wide. The Hyuuga glanced towards the one who tried to save her, sparing the pink-haired girl from the full force of her new technique. Still, the medical-nin was not wholly spared. Haruno glanced over her shoulder, wondering where the sudden winter chill came from, only to see the sky start to darken unnaturally. She glanced back in time to see a shimmering, wavering black shadow cloud the ground.

Sakura shook her head, and remembered her genjutsu training. The sudden drop and surge of chakra worked, she considered, seeing the burning upper floors of the Hokage Tower in the sea-green tint of the sun-soaked winter sky. When she turned, however, she had noticed all but two people staring at the ground, shielding their eyes with their hands. Only Iruka and Neji remained looking into the retreating, feminine shadow. Neji looked on in a cross between shame and pity. Iruka, on the other hand, had a blank expression on his face, as if all the nerves which controlled his skull's muscles were cut. However, the jaw and body behind the dead face seemed as though the man wanted to scream.

"Frost's Thorns," Tsunade muttered under her breath. Sakura made sure to overhear her superior whenever the normally plastered malcontent managed to speak in a serious note. "The worst of the Village of Rain's genjutsu. How did she learn it?"

"Iruka-sensei?" Shino shook the man by his shoulder, trying to stir his instructor from the paralysis. "Iruka-sensei!"

Tsunade continued to stare into the now slithering, wriggling shadow that lengthened in the steady, unmoving sun. "Only a genjutsu user can treat him now," the Hokage exclaimed. "Hinata?" The kunoichi refused to listen. "Hinata!" The name hit her consciousness hard, and the former Sannin knew it. She could see the shimmer of the inhuman shadow start to recede, the warped soil returning to normal. That was the thing about most users of that technique. It only surfaced in full-force when the person, like a wandering victim of winter, lost themselves in the blizzard of their frozen mind. "You made your point!"

The surrounding air warmed dramatically as the seconds passed. The shadow receded to it's original form as the green and gold goggles fogged over a small buildup of tears. The girl began to walk into the tower, leaving the others behind. "Hinata!" Sakura cried. "Hinata, stop!"

"But then I might lose him again," the Hyuuga answered softly.

•••••••••••••

Uzumaki started to cough, the smoke filling his lungs. Shikamaru, Chouji, and Ten Ten were falling behind. The heat was spreading through the levels of the tower, the smoke following. Naruto shook his head. This was the enemy's attempt to escape, making interception impossible. "We have to retreat," Uzumaki coughed, muttering through the green medical gown.

"Are you out of your mind?" Ten Ten bickered. "We need to save the Hokage!"

Chouji nodded. "It doesn't matter whether you want to or not, Naruto. _We_ are still shinobi of the Leaf."

Shikamaru looked back at his comrades, then at the missing nin. "They are right, Naruto. Until we hear from Kiba or Lee that they have Tsunade-sama, we must continue." The rider growled, starting to retrace his steps back to the main floor. "Hey!" Shikamaru barked. "I said we're going on!"

"You are, but I don't have to," the Jinchuuriki argued.

Shikamaru sighed deeply. This was not going to plan at all. "Naruto, you either are or aren't a member of the Hidden Leaf Village. You can't have it both ways whenever it suits you." The chuunin tightened his grip on the kunai tucked under his sleeve. He hoped there would be no need for the insurance given to him by Iruka. However, that all depended on how cooperative the mercenary would be.

BUt there were so many complications with letting him return. This genin had clearly strayed from the teachings of shinobi tactics used by the Leaf. Relearning and adopting the culture of his former home would be so much harder now that the rider seemed set in his ways. The cold blue eyes said it all. He was a hardened piece of diamond, incapable of returning to his former coal form.

"Do what you like," Uzumaki snapped. As the genin brushed past Nara, that was when he sensed the strike. Shikamaru's eyebrows twitched every time he was committed to something. It amused the boy how easy it was to sense his movements, especially considering his promotion to chuunin. The kunai came up in an oriental hold, directed at the genin's abdomen. Nara felt the cloth of the gown begin to tear, just as Naruto's splinted right arm intercepted in an inside defense.

Shikamaru struggled, his forearm wedged between Naruto's left side and arm, the kunai protruding behind his target. Naruto locked eyes with his former comrade. The chuunin stared in shock, observing the dead, expressionless face. There was no surprise at what the team leader tried to do. It was just something he expected from all people, not just these former companions.

This was about the time Shikamaru expected some playful trash talking, something along the lines of belittling his techniques. There was apparently no time for that, as he found Naruto's right foot latch in front of his own, giving the Jinchuuriki more leverage as he wrapped his left arm around the chuunin's throat. The next thing he knew, the team leader was lying on his stomach, his left arm twisted in an uncomfortable angle. As Uzumaki dug the heel of his right foot into the boy's back, he glanced up shortly at the others. "This is the price you pay for betrayal," the blonde muttered. The left wrist, the kunai still held between his fingers, was grasped between Naruto's claws. A savage twist later, and the kunai clattered to the floor. Shikamaru jerked forward, a muffled cry escaping his lips.

Ten Ten and Chouji were immediately on the defensive as the criminal's left arm withdrew the crossbow slung over his back. The explosive tag was taped cleanly to the bolt's shaft, aimed directly at the weapons specialist. "N-Naruto!" the brunette snapped. "Let Shikamaru go! He didn't do anything to you!"

The smoke continued to fill in the empty spaces of the corridor as Naruto took up the slack in the trigger. "You will retreat now," he demanded. Ten Ten started to step back, but Chouji did not budge. "Retreat, or die."

"We will not abandon him!" Akimichi declared.

"Very well," Naruto answered, aiming the crossbow directly at Shikamaru's head. The genin's prey felt the bolt's tip graze over his scalp, scratching at the loose dandruff. Each breath he took pushed his head closer, the pressure of the sharpened bolt point digging further into his skin. He could not stand laying there, waiting to die. But there was nothing left he could do. He heard Naruto's lips pull back in a grin, and the trigger jerking back.

•••••••••••••

The ceiling above Hinata, now in the second floor of the tower, suddenly exploded, fragments raining down over her. Her Byakugan useless, she could still use her more formidable Jyuuken attacks. As her body twirled about her left foot, now en pointe, the protected ribbons of chakra sliced into the crumbling structure above. She was cautious, though, to stop her onslaught when the three bodies free-falling from above came within range of her attacks.

Shikamaru, Ten Ten, and Chouji all landed hard. The chuunin rolled onto his fractured wrist, wincing as he limply flopped to his right side. Ten Ten tried to roll gently into the fall, but felt a slap and crack jet through her left knee, causing her teeth to rattle. Chouji, thankfully, had plenty of padding to absorb the harsh shock of landing. "Son of a bi-" Nara started, dragging his broken body towards the exit.

The disgraced Hyuuga heiress kneeled beside the chuunin. "We have the Hokage," she stated simply.

The remaining three members of the assault team seemed to have their burden lifted. There was no further need of their services. "Kiba and Lee?" Shikamaru asked.

Hyuuga shook her head. "Kiba is safe, but there was a fire, and..." She did not need to say anymore. That was when Hinata swung her head left to right. "Where is Naruto?"

Shikamaru scowled, easing himself up to a limping stride with the corridor's wall for support. "He betrayed us..."

Apparently, that was not the answer Hinata was looking for, as she gripped the boy's tactical vest, shoving his back against the wall. "_Where_ is he?" Nara still refused to answer. The crimson stains were a stark contrast to the the left sleeve of the chuunin's clothing. It was a further contrast when Hinata took the boy's left wrist, and started to squeeze, holding the limb up to eye level. She made her victim watch as the fragile, splintered bones punched through his skin. She waited patiently, the fire still consuming the building, as the chuunin's screams started to die down. "_WHERE?"_ she demanded.

Shikamaru looked blankly into the opaque goggles, the gold lenses reflecting like the fire in a demon's eyes. He stammered, trying to answer, but could not get the words out. He was only spared when the shamed kunoichi released her grasp, and launched herself to the fragments of the third floor above her. She would find her beloved, and from that point on never want. She would sacrifice everything, because there was nothing left for her in this world except him.

She had waited through eight months of mourning just to find out he was alive, and would never let him disappear again.

•••••••••••••

The smoke was heavy, black, and enveloping everything around him. Uzumaki wheezed, falling to his knees. He could not continue, and he knew while it was not his fault, the anger inside him did not relinquish its hold. That man was the key behind it all: the conquest of Wind Country, the experimental genjutsu weapons, and more importantly, the attack on Jiraiya. He had spent six months in torture, and two months on the run, all of that time fighting back for what? He could not fail, not this close.

There was no face, no name, or any identity attached to Jiraiya's attacker. There was only the codename, and an alleged tie to Wind Country's capitol city. He was a part of the royal military, Naruto was certain of that much. Some regarded him as a myth, like the bandits who only considered him a legendary demon. But Red Phoenix was real, and what he had his subordinates do to him was real.

There was a slight thump behind him, only noticeable when it was felt through the floor as the sound of crackling flames blocked out all sound. Uzumaki the Butcher was never one to be caught off-guard. For a moment, just a moment, he thrilled at the possibility of someone out-maneuvering him by stealth. There was a chance his end goal was in sight.

But as the light, feminine form approached, her silhouette slicing through the smoke, Naruto's anger and anticipation were squelched. She was here, waiting for him. There would be another chance, he realized. Red Phoenix wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He had tasted fear in his enemy's blood, and would linger like a scavenger waiting for the final breaths. But she, on the other hand, was like the wind, impossible to capture. For the moments they were together, he would give up his hunt.

Hyuuga Hinata knelt beside the Jinchuuriki as his sight faded to black.

End of Chapter III

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